Law & Ardor
by the80srule
Summary: Successful legal eagle Caroline Forbes bites off more than she can chew when she takes on a high-profile divorce case. Rated M for coarse language, use of litigation speak, and of course...lemony goodness.
1. They Call Her The Rainmaker

_**AU setting fic where everyone's human...and most characters are transposed fairly differently than you know from the show.**_

_**Caveat: I have no fucking idea where anything is in Virginia. I passed through once about 10 years ago on a road trip but didn't stay there. Mystic Falls isn't a real town anyway...so I'll let the town float wherever I feel like putting it which would be kinda close to DC and Arlington and maybe an hour from Newport News :)**_

_**Another caveat: I also have no fucking clue what Virginia divorce law is. But I'd hope a dissertation on it wouldn't be your reason for reading. ;) Tax law and some business law is my area of expertise.**_

_**VD and all characters property of LJ Smith.**_

_**Now sit back and enjoy this legal lemon drama! TEAM FOREWOOD!**_

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_Laws are spider webs through which the big flies pass and the little ones get caught_. Balzac

* * *

It was another typical sunny spring morning in scenic Mystic Falls, Virginia, driving past businesses that wouldn't open for hours yet while I knew I wouldn't even be the first person to make it to my office. I heaved a sigh as I missed the green light by barely three seconds, sipping my third cup of coffee that morning.

As I waited for the light to change, I looked around at the more upscale side of town, the art galleries, the retail shops that definitely weren't high-volume businesses, the Mystic Grill. I briefly wondered what it would be like to say "Screw everything!" and open a business like one of these, that wouldn't involve getting up at 5 AM every day and working ten and sometimes twelve hour days.

But I'm so close to making partner at Schrecter & Rose that it's just not worth stopping now.

I'm what they call a "rainmaker". For those unfamiliar with the legal profession, rainmakers are lawyers that have constant winning streaks and are always bringing in new clients, thus constantly "raining" good fortune on the practice.

I busted my ass at Yale and worked hellish hours as a paralegal at a consumer protection law firm in New York before getting admitted to the bar. I then decided that home was where my heart was, so when I started taking on bigger cases and raking in six figures I bought my mom a smaller but nicer house in the more affluent side of town and took our old house as my own. No point in blowing wads of cash on fancy cars and a McMansion like my co-workers in New York did: people often go broke trying to appear rich. At least back at home, being a descendent of a founding family gave me status automatically and I had my rainmaker status at the firm to be a cause for impressing people.

So, it was a long hard road to where I got today and I'm vying to make partner.

I pulled into the firm's parking lot, longing for the day I'd see a reserved spot with my name on it like there was for the senior partners in the accounting firm we shared our office complex with, and the senior partners in my firm, Klaus Schrecter and Lexi Rose.

Lexi was a sharp woman who didn't take shit from anybody, and she went through more assistants than most company meetings went through donuts. She had been there when it was still Schrecter & Schrecter, and a woman I didn't like to be around when she wasn't in a good mood. But that quality helped her win many a case when other defense attorneys were just plain afraid to go up against her and she was known for constantly having hung juries.

Klaus was a German-American who was older than dirt but still spry and he refused to stop doing what he loved. In fact, his dedication to his career put a strain on his first marriage because he saw his wife probably around six hours a week total. Since he was married to an ER doctor at the hospital nearby now, I assume she understood his plight far better.

I hoped the day I got my reserved parking spot, partner pen, and plush new office chair that didn't automatically deflate when I sat on it would come soon.

* * *

"Caroline," my assistant and long-time best friend Bonnie Bennett called after I stepped off the elevator. "Klaus gave me this memo, said that you have to see him immediately."

"But I didn't even turn my computer on yet." I gestured towards my moderately full inbox that would surely be overflowing later.

Bonnie shrugged. "It sounded pretty big and important." Her eyes lit up for a second. "Maybe he'll tell you you're going to make partner?"

"I can only hope!" I replied as I took the memo and walked down the hallway to Klaus's office, breathing in the smell of leather and High Karate (aka Eau de Old Guy), wondering when one of these private offices would be mine. Klaus's assistant Eric motioned me to sit down on the enormous leather divan across from his desk.

"Miss Forbes," Klaus began. "We just got the case of the year."

I immediately got excited. What would it be? Ponzi scheme? Sexual harassment? Ooh! Maybe it would be a case that would make me a modern-day Clarence Darrow, like a mother suing a big company with deep pockets for demoting her...Caroline Forbes Esq., rainmaker, crusher of the glass ceiling.

"Stefan, of the Salvatore family, just gave us a call and is seeking representation for his divorce."

My hopes were dashed as quickly as they had gotten up.

The Salvatore family reeked of old money, a shipping magnate dating back to colonial times. I had driven past their massive estate before, I imagine it must've been pretty fabulous in those times with a crew of servants, lawn parties, and the like. Mrs. Salvatore unfortunately died of cancer when her sons were pretty young. Mr. Salvatore Sr. had died of a heart attack not too long ago, his funeral was a highly publicized event that many people attended. But what got serious press attention was the fact that shortly after his death, Stefan and his wild playboy brother Damon each got an eight-figure inheritance.

But the Salvatores were one of the Mystic Falls founding families, and like all affluent Virginia families that go back, they were often the subject of much press and scrutiny. Not too much longer before his father died, Stefan had married Katherine Pierce, a spoiled high society it-girl whose father was a big influence in Congress. Ie, in big business and constantly doling out bribes to keep outsourcing totally legal so they could keep bringing home millions. What was that saying from the Roman senator Tacitus, "The more corrupt a state, the more numerous the laws"?

Katherine was pretty famous, sort of like Paris Hilton but without all of the business savvy. (But all the whiniess and bitchiness.) She'd probably have her own reality show soon enough.

While an old money family like the Salvatores would mean we'd have no trouble getting paid, still, I'd be hoping for a really exciting and challenging case. A rich guy divorce probably meant he just wanted us to keep the ex-wife away from his assets, or he'd probably be willing to settle out of court once he laid his eyes on the next trophy wife. That's usually what happened in these cases.

Klaus's age had to be catching up with him, how the hell could this be the case of the year?

"Okay, so Stefan Salvatore wants to get divorced. How is this any different from any other old money divorce? Should be a pretty open and shut case, right?"

Klaus shook his head. "Open and shut, yes. But the same as other old money divorce cases, no. Katherine Pierce is a spotlight whore who seeks attention so much, that she poses for the paparazzi. The kids are always Twittering and whatnot over the last thing she did that caused a big scream.

And she's probably not going to settle out of court for whatever Stefan is willing to give her. She'll be probably want to go to court and make this into a dramatic battle that could last months. Since even bad publicity is still publicity to her."

I was beginning to see his point. "So...between all of the billable hours, the Salvatores trying to pull damage control, doing what he can to keep the inheritance safe, we stand to make a huge amount of money off this divorce," I mused to myself. "More than ANY divorce we've ever finalized."

"Exactly!" Klaus urged. "When a divorce case gets this much media attention, that also means face time for _you._ On TV, in newspapers, and the like. Imagine all the attention this will bring to the firm- if we win this case, every man in a twenty-mile radius or even bigger who wants a divorce is going to want the same representation that Stefan Salvatore had...as will girls who hate Katherine Pierce and want to see her crushed."

"Settling out of court is still possible."

"In which case we'll draw up the papers but charge accordingly. But settlement or not, I need my rainmaker to take this case." He paused. "You win this one for us and get all this publicity, then I think making you partner could be arranged."

That was all the convincing I needed. "Rainmaker Forbes accepts."

"Great! Mr. Salvatore will be seeing you Monday morning."

I walked back to my office that seemed so paltry compared to Klaus's luxurious corner office with the huge bay window. Bonnie had a vanilla rice-milk latte waiting for me, my favorite.

"So what was that all about?"

"You know the Salvatore family? Old money, Founders' Council? Stefan and Katherine are getting divorced and Klaus wants me to handle it."

"Get the fuck out of here! That's amazing, Caroline!"

I shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is. It's just another divorce case, except they're more rich and famous than the average upper middle class divorces we handle."

Bonnie laughed and shook her head. "Girl, don't you spend any time on Facebook?"

I made my way to my inbox which indeed had gotten bigger since my long chat with Klaus. "No," I called. "I hope I'm not compensating my assistant for just going on Facebook."

I could hear her pouting from the other room. "Come on now, how many times have I helped you win a case with my good investigative skills with stuff that I found on Facebook? If only people knew just HOW incriminating it could be, I don't think 98% of the world would be using it."

"Get to the point, Bonnie." I started making a note of the order I would do the depositions I had to take for the day.

"Point is, a big chunk of the country, not just Mystic Falls, follows what goes on with the Salvatore brothers. And with Katherine Pierce. If you ever turned on a computer for anything other than work, you'd know that!"

I had to be honest, I don't know what the hell I would do without Bonnie.

"Maybe they're not as big as Brangelina or anyone on Jersey Shore, but this case could be huge for the firm. You'll constantly get reporters following you around." Alright, that bit I could live without.

"You'll get so much business that the Mystic Falls office won't be enough. You'll need branch offices in New York and L.A.!" That I could definitely live with, and if I made partner, I could choose to relocate or stay in Mystic Falls in my old house like I preferred.

I looked up from my papers. "You're right Bonnie...I haven't really thought this through. Klaus is right, this IS a pretty big case. It's just going to be a typical divorce tug-of-war between our dearly-beloveds except this one will have constant press, betting pools on Twitter, and a guy from a founding family who will probably do whatever he has to do to save his name and inheritance."

"Now you're definitely going to make partner with THAT attitude!" Bonnie sunnily smiled as she appeared in my doorway. "This totally calls for a celebration. Can you imagine what kind of big fat retainer you're going to get from Stefan Salvatore? Probably enough to buy another small house!"

The thought about the retainer definitely brightened my day. Maybe I would take a much-needed vacation with that retainer once the divorce and the other cases on my docket were through.

* * *

I had taken a few depositions and did some filing with the county clerk's office, an injunction and search warrant here and there, then lunchtime rolled around. "Bon, you feel like the Grill today? Three-martini lunch is on me!"

"I'm totally down!"

We got in my car and headed to the Mystic Grill. We'd barely even walked into the restaurant when we saw two girls walking and talking to each other, and one whipped out her iPhone and said, to her friend "Katherine Pierce and Stefan Salvatore are getting divorced! Holy fuck, she's going to take him for every penny! She had this tearful v-log up this morning, did you see it?"

Bonnie touched my arm. "See what I mean? You just GOT this case and already people are talking about it!"

"Shh, not so loud!" I slid into my favorite booth and grabbed a menu. "I just hope it doesn't get to the point that I can't come here without people asking me about it. _That_ would totally suck. Now I see why Klaus assigned this case to me...wants to see what I'm made of. If I'm really partner material, I won't crumble under all the stress from the publicity."

"That's a good way of looking at it." Bonnie ordered our drinks. "But seriously Caroline, we gotta celebrate. This is a HUGE deal. In fact," she reached into her purse, "I know what would be perfect." She produced a bright red envelope addressed to me, and a laminated VIP pass fell out along with a small professionally printed card that looked like an invitation.

"What's this?"

"Remember that case you took back in November, that model Vickie Donovan who sued for defamation?"

Vickie Donovan was a model-cum-actress-cum-singer from DC who I represented when she sued a former co-worker for writing a tell-all book about some of the shameful things she had done to get bit parts in her Hollywood days. About half of it was true, but when I stopped that book from going to the presses, she was eternally grateful to me and she dropped a line every now and then. Though after the long court debacle, the experience made her no longer want to be famous and constantly in the public eye. She used her money from the catwalk days to open various nightclubs across the country in affluent areas. Needless to say, she became quite happy not to mention rich with the nightclub business and never wanted to appear in another magazine again unless it was Crain's or WSJ to discuss nightclub management.

"Yes, of course. She's having a party I take it?"

Bonnie was clearly bursting with excitement. "Oh, not just a party. She's opening a new club in Newport News tomorrow night. It's in that really rich, exclusive area by the waterfront- you know, some of those clubs that have lines snaking around for blocks if you don't need a _key_ to get in?"

I laughed to myself. "I just wonder how she picked it...she has two clubs in L.A., one in New York, one in Aspen, one in Paris...why Newport News?"

"Please, Virginia's the new frontier for urban sophisticates. The new money's getting drawn to the old money. Anyway, you got an invitation _personally_ addressed to you from Ms. Donovan herself for the Newport News opening, as a VIP plus one." She paused. "Unless you have a date in mind I was hoping I could go..."

The waiter came by with our sandwiches. "Of course you can be my plus one! Hell, I think you're more excited for this club opening than I am!"

"Come on Car, I don't do anything exciting anymore. I have to work full-time as your assistant, and can take two classes a semester at State University. At this rate, I'm going to be fucking 50 and making plans to retire by the time I get my bachelors' let alone going to law school or grad school." She took a big bite of her sandwich. "Even though it's just two classes, it's still so much reading and homework. Not to mention that Jeremy's putting himself through art school and a BA may not even guarantee him a job. I'm so tired of hearing all these people at the office complain about young people partying, I don't even remember the last time I got to party because I don't have the time or money for it."

I felt really bad about this. "Bon, I can put a good word in with Klaus about having them pay for you to go to school. It's exempt in the tax code!" I paused to take a drink. "And you know you can always borrow money from me if you and Jeremy are really struggling to pay rent. I'm far nicer than the student loan sharks."

"Aw I can't do that. What if I can't pay you back?"

"With the huge retainer I'm probably going to get from the Salvatore divorce, I could probably send you to Princeton!"

She laughed. "Alright Forbes Magazine- so are you down for the party? Vickie said to text her assistant to RSVP."

"Text away, Caroline Forbes plus one."

She sent the RSVP. "I'm so glad you decided to do this. Not only do we need to properly celebrate and unwind, but this totally gives us an excuse to buy some hot new dresses."

I clapped my hands. "Yes! Let's hit Dillard's after work today!"

"Aaand...who knows, maybe you'll meet a pretty hot guy at this and get swept off your feet!"

"Oh come on, that's not going to happen."

"How do you know that? I mean, I never predicted in a million years that I'd end up with Jeremy Gilbert after just one drunken hook-up after the Founders' Carnival. After Luca betrayed me, it took an incredibly long time for me to attempt trusting men ever again...and Jeremy had just been there under my nose the whole time."

I sighed. "I think enough time's passed since Matt unceremoniously dumped me. But I just intimidate so many guys with my success. If they're not after my money thinking they'll be the Real Househusbands of Mystic Falls, then they're inappropriately older men I am totally not interested in."

She shrugged. "Well, you don't have to meet Mr. Right at the new club...maybe just a Mr. Wrong to have some fun with!"

We ate the rest of our sandwiches then Bonnie's Sidekick went off, it was Vickie's assistant.

"Holy crap! Talk about VIP treatment- Vickie said that she'd have a limo come pick us up tomorrow to take us directly to the club. Just give her your address."

I downed the rest of my drink. "Well, ain't that a sign that I've arrived- Caroline Forbes Esq., master of the fucking universe."

* * *

**Waiting for the lemony goodness? Be patient.**

**After all, there's the opening of Vickie's new club. And meeting Caroline's incredibly rich client.**

**Reviews are better than three-martini lunches...it might make the next chapter come faster. (Something you WANT to come faster. ;) )**


	2. Motion to Stroke

_"Great cases like hard cases make bad law."_ Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes

_"People that are really very weird can get into sensitive positions and have a tremendous impact on history." _Former Vice President Dan Quayle

* * *

Friday couldn't get here fast enough. Bonnie's enthusiasm was totally infectious, I found myself looking forward to the club opening just as much as she did. Namely it would be nice to see Vickie again, and it would be nice to get away for just a little bit. Who in their right mind could say no to a free limo ride to and from the club?

We had a fun trip to Dillard's after work the other day, giggling like sixteen-year-olds trying on dresses and accessories that we never could've afforded back then. I ended up buying a less-is-more Azzedine Alaia off-the-shoulder black sheath that cost what Mom sent to the bank every month for our house, that I planned on dressing up with some artsy handmade brass jewelry that I still had from college. Bonnie got a shocking pink and black Betsey Johnson bubble dress that was to die for, which I insisted on paying for. Maybe I could bill it to the firm as a compensation expense since I didn't think Klaus was paying her enough but he and Lexi took home huge bonuses last year.

The office was often dead on a Friday, it reminded me of those school days we'd have in late June to make up for snow days where we just sat around fanning ourselves doing pointless busy-work. Klaus was in court all day so it was just Lexi around, she gave me a suspicious glance when I said that Bonnie and I had to cut out of work early to do some "off-site investigation" to dig up dirt on the Salvatore and Pierce families.

By "off-site" I meant a trip to the salon, and by "investigation" it meant I drove while Bonnie searched Facebook, Twitter, and the like on her Sidekick.

I made a left turn onto the main business route and stopped at the light. Bonnie was still paging through something on a gossip website.

"Wow, Katherine's really going overboard with this whole 'he dumped my ass' sob story. TMZ is making her out to look really stupid." She clicked to another story. "This one speculates Stefan found another poor little rich girl to screw. Seriously, to me, it sounds like he just woke up one day and realized Katherine was a total bitch and he only put up with it because she's hot but it's just not worth it."

"It's also because her father has big bucks and enough pull in Congress to ensure the Salvatore empire and that old and new money alike stay rich," I added. "If she's a real daddy's girl like a bunch of those spoiled brats often are, I wonder if Daddy will retaliate...and those rich heirs are going to need to keep paying us to keep their assets safe from the Pierces."

"I think Lexi would've been a bit more forgiving about us ditching work early if she could hear that right now!"

* * *

Back at my house later that night, we got ourselves substantially dolled up in our hot new dresses and prestige makeup. Bonnie was right, it had been a long time since either of us got to do something really fun. And here I am, taking on a divorce that would definitely be thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands if Katherine dragged things out in court, while a former model invited me to a hot new club that wouldn't involve me driving around for half an hour trying to find a parking spot.

It would be a crime not to go all out.

Bonnie's phone started ringing so she picked it up. "The limo's here!"

We gathered up our impractical but oh so stylish night-out clutches and headed out the door, where a friendly-looking uniformed driver was waiting outside next to a tall black SUV stretch limo.

"Miss Forbes, Miss Bennett," he greeted with a big smile. "My name is George and I'll be your limo driver tonight. It'll be about an hour to seventy minutes from here to Newport News. " He opened the door for us, and it was one of those huge setups that looked like two seven-piece sectional couches put together around a small bar so one could actually stand up in there, with a TV in the back that looked big enough to be a fireplace with a substantial DVD and Blu-ray library.

"Honey, I think 'master of the fucking universe' was kind of an understatement," Bonnie mused in awe.

"Oh, and this is compliments of Ms. Donovan." George produced a brand-new bottle of Cristal that had pink and white party ribbons tied around it.

"Huh." Bonnie inspected the bottle and looked inside, where there was a fully-stocked bar and several glasses by the TV. The seats were upholstered in a soft-looking fabric with plenty of cushioning underneath. "Seriously, can you get more former models to sue for defamation? Please! I don't think I'll ever want to take a plane again, I just want to take this limo!"

George laughed. "Enjoy the ride, and please let me know if there's anything you need."

We plunked down into the huge seats that felt like sitting on a cloud. I _could_ get used to this.

As George took us from Mystic Falls to Newport News, we found _Twilight_ in the DVD collection and started talking back to the TV after the Cristal kicked in.

"Look," I said after I started feeling a little warm. "I like _Twilight_ and all, but I'm sorry, it's just WAY too easy to make fun of. Come on! A guy who sparkles and refuses to have sex with you is not a vampire. It's a gay man!"

We busted out laughing, now it was Bonnie's turn to muse.

"You know, I used to think that spoiled little rich girls like Katherine Pierce and all those kids who go to that expensive prep school two towns over were just being whiny if they were going to lose their inheritance or their parents cut them off," she stopped to refill her glass. "But now I'm just slightly beginning to understand why they're so pissed off, I don't think I can turn back now that I've had a ride in this limo and am drinking a $150 bottle of champagne."

I laughed. "Bonnie, the reason why they bitch about their money being cut off is that they have no concept of what things are like for real people to make a living, pay bills, and the like. We do, that's the backgrounds we came from, but those people know nothing but money being no object." I swigged the rest of my Cristal. "This is a huge treat for us that I got for my hard work, it was a long battle against that bitchy actress and her publisher. I worked for this, spoiled heiress brats got this shit handed to them for doing nothing. Imagine how...un-special it must be for them." I giggled. "Un-special. That's like a Dubya saying."

"Dubya that," Bonnie giggled. "Now let's see if there's any more champagne."

Two _Twilight_ commentaries and another bottle of premium champagne later, George informed us that we arrived at the club.

"Ladies, have a great night!"

"The ride was great. We'll ask for you when we have to get a ride back later!" Bonnie promised.

We exited the limo, and the sight before us was just plain incredible: The club was three stories tall, the exterior was painted dark blue and silver with 1920s-style playbill lettering on the sign. There were red ferns adorning the sides with neon lights in blue and red squiggling up the sides of the building. Three burly security guards wearing enough wire gear to practically be Secret Service agents were at the door, and a line of beautiful people was lined up for several yards, vying to get in.

"Wow," I whispered. "Bonnie, I'm so glad you talked me into this."

"I know!" she squealed. "Now let's show those people you're a master of the fucking universe."

I reached into my purse and produced my VIP pass, showed it to the guard, and he nodded. "If you and your guest would go inside to the left, security will take you to see Ms. Donovan. She asked us to send you to her as soon as you got here."

He clicked up the velvet rope and motioned us inside, much to the chagrin of the massive crowd of people behind the other cordon.

Bonnie and I looked at each other, trying not to squeal in excitement.

We didn't go directly to the main club area, we walked down a dark corridor where another security guard with a walkie-talkie was waiting for us. He motioned us to follow him up a set of stairs where he punched in a code for a private elevator. While we waited for the elevator, Bonnie and I observed the scene down below from the balcony.

It was almost totally dark save for the blue lighting elements everywhere. Loud dance music played, and there was a large stage for a live band though it wasn't currently in use. Three long bars adorned in blue, purple, and silver with those cool light-up displays behind all the top-shelf booze beckoned, I could see long lists of specialty cocktails that were easily $25 apiece. Judging by the lines of people waiting to buy drinks and the wads of cash sitting on the bar, I imagine most of the patrons were fine with this. The club was crowded enough that you could interact with many people, but not so crowded that the line to get in the bathroom was longer than the line for Metallica tickets.

All in all, Vickie's opening night and new club on the waterfront were a smash hit from what I could see.

The guard escorted us off the elevator and into a posh office that looked like something out of an interior design magazine, perfectly white walls, plush carpeting that looked and felt like marshmallows, and a white leather couch, with futuristic-looking silver lighting fixtures and a solid black oak desk.

"Ms. Donovan, Miss Forbes and Miss Bennett have arrived."

The fancy executive chair behind the oak desk swiveled around, and sure enough, there was Vickie Donovan, who broke out into a huge smile when she saw us.

"Thanks, that'll be all, Ralph." The guard went back to the elevator as Vickie got up from her desk to give us each bone-crushing hugs. She looked significantly heavier since the last time I saw her, but she was positively radiant. I was genuinely happy for her success and the joy she found in her new career, she looked miserable and on the brink of death when I was handling her defamation case.

"Caroline Forbes, how the fuck are you? So, what do you think of the new digs?"

Bonnie and I could barely contain ourselves and we gushed about how fabulous it was. "Vickie, this is totally amazing. I guess your other clubs must be doing really well if you were able to afford this. And the party downstairs looks totally happening, people are practically fighting to the death just to get in here. Congratulations!"

She waved her hand. "Please, what five million dollars buys in New York and Paris, is about twenty times bigger below the Mason-Dixon line! Virginia's the new hotspot for the exclusive nightclub scene and I wanted to snag this piece of prime real estate while the waterfront's still cheap. I know that Newport News is going to be worth billions!"

"Told you so!" Bonnie sing-songed to me. "This woman needs a fucking Facebook account, honestly."

"So listen, the reason I asked you up here is because I just wanted to tell you that you and your friends, you're not paying for anything here. Tonight, or ever."

"Really?" Bonnie squeaked.

"Yes, fuckette!" Vickie beamed. "Everything's on the house. Anything you need, don't be afraid to ask."

I was flabbergasted. "Wow Vickie. That's incredibly generous, but I can't. I gotta pay for at least one drink..."

"Nonsense, I won't hear of it!" she waved her arms. "Seriously, if it hadn't been for you, I would still be having six bumps of cocaine and four tablespoons of plain non-fat yogurt for breakfast every morning because someone at _Harper's_ bitched that I had some semblance of hips in last month's Chanel spread. I also could've totally lost that case and my career would've been in the shitter had that book come out.

Now I'm making more real money than ever, I love my job, and no one gives a shit what size I'm wearing while doing so! Because if they did, I could fire their asses or deny them admission!"

"Hey, I can't argue with that."

"You're on the VIP list for life, doll. I owe my life to you and can never thank you enough for getting it back for me. This is the least I can do. So get your fabulous ass downstairs and enjoy the party."

"Will do, will do!"

"Oh and one more thing," Vickie called as we headed towards the elevator.

"Yeah?"

"Enjoy the VIP lounge! If you ladies plan on any action tonight, only the finest boys are allowed back there. My VIP bouncer, Hassan, has very discriminating taste." She winked.

"I'm already spoken for, but maybe we can find a nice guy for Caroline, Master of the Fucking Universe?" Bonnie giggled.

Then they said in unison, "Or a Mr. Wrong to just have some fun with!"

We got on the elevator and she held up my VIP pass. "Well, here's our ticket to the jungle. Let's make the most of it!"

* * *

The nicest thing about Vickie's hot new club was that it was an interesting crowd that was a lot of fun to observe. There were the glitterati, the wannabe glitterati, the guys who were corporate hotshots by day but total party animals by night, the professional women who just wanted to take younger men home then send them on their way, the men who could get laid for their bankrolls and not their looks, the poor little rich girls and the men who bought them jewelry.

The drinks were out of this world, and our bar tab would've easily been hundreds of dollars if it hadn't been for Vickie comping us. Have you ever had an organic blue agave margarita? No? YOU HAVE TO TRY ONE.

I was on my fourth organic agave margarita, and after all that champagne in the limo, I was starting to feel pretty good now. Bonnie and I danced until our feet were killing us, we danced with some charming stockbrokers who bought us drinks, and with some high society girls giggling about how they gave blowjobs to the said stockbrokers in the last bathroom stall on the left because chances were there was a Cartier bracelet in it for at least one of them. We made a mental note not to use that stall.

Several guys tried to pick me up throughout the night, most of them were just looking to get laid and it was pretty obvious. Not that I could expect much more in a place like this, but I couldn't believe the audacity of the college boy who got in my face when I was waiting at the bar and said, "Hey, do you work for Fed Ex? Because I totally saw you inspecting my package!"

Bonnie and I headed to the VIP lounge in hopes of some escape from guys like that but this time, there were so many professional types just trying to network and pick up business. While drunk.

Hassan did indeed have discriminating taste, but I was hoping for something more Studio 54 and less American Bar Association National Conference.

There were disappointed professional women back here who really just wanted to get laid, but they didn't get any dick, they got business cards with a work phone number.

Bonnie picked up my infinity-x margarita as we took a seat on a brocade couch that looked something out of the French Revolution era. "What the fuck is wrong with these people?" I blurted. "Work is the LAST thing I feel like talking about right now! This is the first night out I've had in ages, why can't you miserable fucks have any fun?"

Bonnie was pretty drunk too though I think I was in the lead. "Yeah...like those persnickety accountant guys over there that are making like this is a fucking country club. What, are they going to discuss golf scores next?"

We laughed, then got interrupted by a pretty girl who seemed to recognize Bonnie.

"Bonnie Bennett?"

"Huh?"

"Jenna Saltzman, from your first job, remember?"

She clapped her hands. "Sweetie, how ARE you! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I quit working for the judge's office when I got offered that job in New York, then I was sleeping with the boss and he fired my ass when his wife found out. I ended up at Vickie's club the day after, she heard about my demise then hired me for her PR team and I had to come back home for opening night." She paused to sip her drink. "I gotta say, dating and being married to lying douchebags actually ended up being the best things I did for my career! The windfall after the storm!" We clinked glasses. "So how did you get back here?"

"I'm working at Schrecter & Rose now, as Caroline the Rainmaker's assistant, who's VIP for life here. She's this close to making partner! You're never going to believe what case she just got assigned, Stefan Salvatore's di-"

"Shh, not so loud, someone might hear you! Don't freakin tell anybody!" I frantically looked around, trying to see if anyone was paying attention to us. "I also don't want any stuck-up lawyers who may be up here to nose about the case or come over and try to pick me up, or worse yet, attempt to network with me like these other phony douchecopters wandering around."

"Like that hot guy by the bar who's checking you out right now?"

We looked by the bar, and this really hot guy was sure enough staring at me. We stared back, then started giggling and quickly looked away. I peeked back over my shoulder, and he was still checking me out and grinning back at us.

"This is so high school," I said while trying to stifle laughter again.

"Oh god, he's coming over here!" Bonnie practically shrieked in my ear.

Bonnie and Jenna looked totally excited for me. "Caroline, mind if Bonnie and I go catch up on things a bit?"

"Yes, we're going to leave you alone with tall, dark, and handsome for a bit." Bonnie leaned down to whisper. "Text me if you need a bailout."

But before I could protest, Bonnie and Jenna walked off to go bring each other up to speed on their lives, and I saw another blue agave margarita appear on the table next to me.

"Looked like you could use another one," a deep but silky voice behind me said.

I actually felt myself blush as I turned around to meet my mysterious giver of margaritas. "Tall, dark, and handsome" was a major understatement. Dressed in all black, he was slim but muscular, with dark hair and dark eyes, and chiseled features that reminded me of those old Roman statues. He could've easily been on the cover of _GQ_ or something.

He sat down next to me and upon closer look, his eyes were this strange color black like I'd never seen before, with long lashes. Maybe it was all the booze or the fact that I hadn't gotten laid in a long time, but his lips looked totally sensual.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation earlier."

_Oh FUCK._ "Uh, which one?" I immediately panicked, hoping he hadn't heard Bonnie telling Jenna about the Salvatore case.

"When you were going on about all the phony douchebags trying to network." He was smiling now, and it was one of the most perfect smiles I'd ever seen on a man.

My brain slightly impaired by all the booze, I tried to place his age. His clothes looked designer and he seemed too genteel and well-spoken to be one of the Ivy League fraternity douchehounds from downstairs but far too young-looking to be a 40-something married guy like what usually goes after me.

I didn't see a ring either.

All right, was a _single_ man close to my age finally about to attempt to score? Damn, maybe Bonnie had been right about tonight all along.

"I know, right?" I took a huge swig of my margarita. "I'm here to just let loose and have fun, I don't want to think or talk about work. Everyone in this part of the club is just trying to whore out their companies or brag about their titles like I give a shit!"

He laughed. "I don't want to network, this isn't a convention at the freakin Hilton!"

Involuntarily, I touched his shoulder. It felt strong. "See, you get it!"

Tall, Dark, and Handsome knocked back some of his own drink. "Okay then. We can talk, and it won't be about our jobs. If anything, let's make up some total bullshit about what we do."

"Deal!" I shrieked and clinked glasses with him as his smoldering eyes were clearly roaming my body.

Most of the time when guys do that, it makes me uncomfortable. This time...I was starting to get a little turned on.

"I'm Caroline and I drive a Geek Squad car for Best Buy. So what's your name so I can stop referring to you as Tall, Dark, and Handsome?" Wow, I think that sounded even more idiotic out loud than it did in my head. But so long as I have my blue agave courage juice, it'll sound like I just gave a _War and Peace_ dissertation.

He didn't seem at all perturbed by my bluntness. "So, my name's Tyler and I work at Starbucks."

I busted out laughing. "Bullshit! You don't work at Starbucks!"

His sensual lips broke into a smile. "That's the point. But I can still whip up a mean espresso."

"And I can still drive like a motherfucker!"

I had no more margarita left by now. This feeling in the pit of my stomach developed that I hadn't felt in a long time. I was incredibly drunk and could feel him undressing me with his eyes...then I started doing the same exact thing to him.

"Well, I certainly hope you won't be driving a car, Geek Squad or not, like this."

My purse fell off the couch, and I went to go get it, sort of accidentally-on-purpose giving Tyler a view as I put its contents back in.

When I got back up, there was a brief moment that we just awkwardly stared at each other. Work-related or not, talking was kind of the last thing I felt like doing.

I don't remember if he kissed me or if I kissed him, but next thing I knew his tongue was in my mouth, rampantly exploring, as I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders.

I've had some pretty intense drunken kisses before. But this one totally stood out. I don't remember the last time a man ever kissed me this passionately.

Or hell, maybe one had, but I was just never that _into it._ This time I certainly was.

I kissed back just as hard, sucking at his tongue, moaning into his mouth when his hand went down my back and squeezed my ass. In a bold move, I moved my leg up around his hip to bring me closer to him, and could feel his erection against my other thigh. I totally didn't care that half the VIP area was probably watching by now and one of those persnickety accountants would tell us to go get a room.

Chock full of dead-on horniness and liquid courage, I put my arm's around Tyler's neck and thrust my chest up against his then my tongue in his ear.

This was followed by, "I never wanted to fuck the living daylights out of a barista so badly."

He hotly replied with, "That's good, because I never walked into a Best Buy and met someone I wanted to fuck the minute I laid eyes on her." He swooped down to kiss me again, running his hand up my thigh.

"Get a room!" some drunk girl yelled at us as her friends tried to guide her to the couch we had been occupying since it looked like she was going to fall over.

"Learn to handle your liquor, girlie!" I called as we made a quick egress from the couch. Just in time too, because she totally hurled all over the potted plant next to it.

Laughing crazily, Tyler took my hand and we left the VIP area. I at least had to say goodbye to Bonnie and make sure she got in the limo safely, as drunk as I was. We looked around the main room of the club. She was nowhere to be found and we were almost at the exit.

With my arm around Tyler's shoulder and his arm around my waist, I realized I was totally shitfaced.

Hornier than ever. Feeling like the hottest piece of ass in the entire room.

Truly a master of the fucking universe.

I texted Bonnie, _going home w/ tall dark & fucking HARDsome. call george to get ur ass home safe!_

A few minutes later she replied with, _OMG go for it! :) details details details tomorrow!_

"We're good to go." I stood up for another kiss.

* * *

I had a vague recollection of getting into a cab, and Tyler almost pulling my bra off in the backseat. I don't know Newport News that well, and I was pretty trashed, so I wasn't sure where we were going and I don't think I asked. I wasn't entirely sure how long we were in the cab either.

But I do remember getting out and entering a large building that had a doorman, and getting on an elevator. Then entering a huge, lavish apartment that was probably the size of the entire first floor of my house.

"Either you work for the mafia or there's damn good reason Starbucks is a Fortune 500 company," I drunkenly commented as my shoes ended up somewhere in his massive foyer.

He laughed. "People tip me well." He put his arm around my waist and practically lifted me off the ground to kiss me deeply, his tongue exploring every bit of my mouth.

I kissed back harder, stroking the back of his neck, as his hands eagerly explored my body, about to make short work of my dress. Why didn't guys tear my dresses off in my days of clothing myself at Forever 21?

Somehow we walked into his bedroom and before Tyler threw me down on his huge, luxurious king-size bed that was akin to falling in a marshmallow, my dress ended up on the floor, and I was blissfully unaware of whether I helped him get me out of it or he just tore it off in impatience.

I was suddenly glad Bonnie had strong-armed me into buying that racy La Perla black bra and panty set on our shopping trip, just in case a lucky guy got to take them off.

Damn, she was totally on the money with the whole big night out and me about to have rampant sex with this incredibly beautiful man. Was she a witch or something?

"Beautiful," he whispered as he gazed at me in my underthings that didn't leave much to the imagination before slowly moving on top of me.

There is something about being kissed and felt up by a man still fully clothed while you're naked or almost naked that I find to be sexy and stimulating beyond belief. Tyler pulled me in all close, that intense tactile feel totally heightening the pleasure of our contact.

More slowly this time we kissed, his hand caressing my leg, moving upward in a very teasing manner. His lips moved to my neck then collarbone, his sensual lips feeling so warm against me. I was getting so fucking wet.

He could probably tell because he started stroking me through my panties as his kisses got lower and lower, and my loins totally burst into flames. I wanted nothing more than to tear his clothes off and mount him but at the same time this felt SO goddamn good.

I was getting a little impatient so I reached down to remove those obstructive panties, but he pulled my hand away.

"Allow me," he uttered in this velvety cream-your-pants voice. I decided not to argue with him as I felt goosebumps erupt all over my body as his adept fingers hooked under the black lace then down my legs, casting them off somewhere. Even in the dark, I could feel his dark eyes burning into me with desire.

I couldn't recall the last time I wanted, no, _needed_,a man inside me so fucking bad like I did Tyler just now.

I started unbuttoning his shirt, coming close to ripping it off, as he unclasped my bra. I was about to reach for his belt but he kept me pinned on my back and licked my rock-hard nipples, sucking gently at first then harder. I clasped my hands at the back of his neck and cried out at the sensation.

He stopped sucking so his kisses went further down my body, until next thing I knew my left leg was slung over his shoulder and he licked and kissed my thighs. Anticipating what was going to happen, I wrenched the loose corners of the bedsheets with my hands.

It was a good thing I did that because his tongue was inside me, licking and exploring every bit, until he found my clit and started paying some friendly attention to it. Licking slowly then harder and more rhythmically until I thought I was going to tear the mattress right out of the frame. He showed no sign of stopping after I screamed.

I stroked his hair and the back of his neck, arching my back occasionally to get licked exactly where I wanted. I wasn't sure how much more of this intense oral pleasure I could take anymore when suddenly he upped his lapping speed, rubbing circles on my inner thighs while licking just my clit toughly, and I was transported to another dimension that was made up of nothing but earth-shattering orgasms.

I laid back to catch my breath and heard the rustle of Tyler removing his pants. I was still buzzed from all of the night's liquor and dizzy with pleasure. I felt totally fucking ready for him, every nerve ablaze, every part of my body a veritable erogenous zone.

Suddenly his muscular body was pressed up against mine, running his hand down my side, kissing my neck. I could feel the velvety tip of his bare, hard cock up against my thigh. It then hit me that there was a lot more where that came from. I briefly wondered if I'd be able to take all of him.

Was too drunk and turned on to care. "Fuck my brains out, tall dark handsome stranger." I hotly whispered.

He took great care in entering me, probably well aware of my concern.

Once he was all in, he started thrusting deep and hard into me. It hurt a little but felt utterly amazing at the same time. I wrapped my legs around his hips, digging my nails into his back, to fuck him back just as hard and get him even deeper inside. I could feel him throb from deep within and fucking loved every second of it.

I screamed out when he turned us over and started fucking me from behind, grabbing my tits and squeezing my nipples incredibly hard as he was almost balls-deep inside me. Thrusting backwards against his massive cock was easier this way, and felt amazing. I fucked back harder and faster than he expected. His breathing was so heavy, it was a contrast to my higher-pitched screams of ecstasy. Just when I thought it wouldn't get any better, he moved his other hand to stroke my clit and I thought I was going to die of stimulation overload.

I moaned his name, the typical tenets of encouragement, then several unintelligible declarations of pleasure as he fucked and groped me sore. He seemed to love it just as much as I did.

My ego-stroking was pretty effective because next thing I knew, he grabbed me harder and said he was about to get off. I didn't know what to expect, maybe that he'd pull out by now.

Instead, he seemed a bit hellbent to have me beat him to the finish line, and he pulled me upright so I was sitting in his lap with his huge, throbbing member still inside me. He proceeded to fuck me so deep and hard that it felt like I was being pulled inside out, and he hit into this spot that sent me back to that alternate dimension I was in earlier. I moaned his name into his shoulder as I braced myself for his big finish.

Satisfied that I came first, he pulled out and finished off with his back facing me. How gentleman-like.

I was totally out of breath and felt like the room was spinning over and over again.

Tyler was by and far the most intense lover I ever experienced.

He made sure I experienced it again three more times, until he fell asleep and the sky was going from black to blue.

* * *

I wasn't sure how long I'd been asleep, but it was just about dawn when I came to.

My head was_ killing_ me, it felt like I had been hit by a bus. I suppressed a groan as I tried to sit upright in bed, and get my bearings as to where I was.

Suddenly feeling back in touch with my college days, I had that devoid feeling that's always present for almost a whole day after several hours of amazing sex. I felt incredibly sore between my legs, my thighs hurt, my ass hurt. Walking and sitting down was SO going to hurt later.

I looked around the room in my sore and hungover state, and realized I was definitely not home.

I was in a luxury condo that was clearly a well-to-do bachelor's, judging by the closet that was still ajar and the array of electronics. The well-to-do bachelor was snoring, dead to the world, next to me in the bed. I was stark naked. A quick peek out the window yielded an unfamiliar metropolitan setting. What fucking town was this? How did I get back here?

I remembered coming home with this guy and having the best sex of my life and that I had never been eaten out like that before.

His name was Tyler and we met at Vickie Donovan's new club. I remembered we were so off-put by the phony people trying to network in the VIP lounge so he said he worked at Starbucks and I said I worked at Best Buy, then somehow ended up tongue-wrestling shortly after that, which led to him taking me home.

My head felt like chainsaws were going off in it. How many margaritas did I have last night?

Tyler was still sound asleep and showed no sign of moving or getting up any time soon. I was never one for awkward mornings-after. I think it was for the best that I made like a tree and got the fuck out of here. Better to leave with no warning than have the guy awkwardly kick me to the curb like an angry lion weeding out his pack.

Quietly, I tiptoed onto the floor and out of the bed, careful not to disturb it and chance waking him up. I found my bra near the side of the bed I slept on, but my panties were nowhere to be found. My dress was laying in a pile near the door, so I ran for it, just to put it on to find that the side that didn't zip up was completely torn. Great.

But it would have to do for now.

I continued to silently lurk into the foyer, trying not to stop and be amazed at the high-vaulted ceilings, and a doorway on the right that appeared to be a bathroom nearly the size of my old bedroom at home before I took the master bedroom for myself. I had to pee really bad too, it was tempting to go in but I didn't want to risk waking him up.

As I scanned the foyer for my shoes and purse, I spied a large and airy kitchen that looked like something out of a Food Network backdrop with some expensive-looking appliances. Even one of those fancy steel-door refrigerators that have built-in icemakers and wine chillers. I wondered if he even used this stuff or probably had a personal chef or something.

Clearly, Tyler didn't work for Starbucks. Unless he was CEO.

My purse was on a lavish sectional leather couch, and a quick check ensured I had all of my important items in there. None of my money or IDs were missing, and my keys and Blackberry were in there safe and sound. I had missed a message from Bonnie that was sent around 2 AM: _Made it home. Call me and tell me everything tomorrow! XO_

I put it back in my purse then soon found my shoes just as sunlight began to fill the room, they were clearly thrown off drunkenly somewhere near his front door.

Using my old trick from college, I tiptoed towards the front door with shoes in hand, Blackberry on silent, I took my bra (which I only planned on shoving in my purse later anyway) and muffled the snap lock with it, then muffled the doorknob with it again and tiptoed to my exit.

The door creaked slightly but wasn't as loud as I expected. Must be a new building. I made it into the hallway and carefully and slowly closed the door, and heard a *snick* as the bottom lock hitched back automatically.

I put my shoes on as I waited for the elevator, desperate for some fresh air and just to relieve myself, take a shower, then sleep in my own bed for an incredibly long time.

The elevator took me back to the lobby, where an amused doorman couldn't takes his eyes off me. I shot him a death glare and made my way to the exit. I could see a few people outside, namely other boys and girls having similar walks of shame, and food service workers going to cafes and delis. I must be in a city of some type.

I walked down the street, whatever it was, and realized this was a high-rent district judging by the kinds of businesses around- organic dry cleaners, gourmet food shops, clothing stores that sell $35 pairs of pantyhose. This was the Upper East Side of...wherever. Maybe I DID end up back in New York for all I knew.

I made my way to a wider street that was some kind of main boulevard, and with relief I spied a taxi stand, which I made a break for. Which is always a bitch in heels.

I found a cabbie who had an available seat. "Can you take me to Mystic Falls?"

He looked at me all confused. "Mystic Falls?"

"It's about an hour from here?" I guessed. Then I realized the club was in Newport News but I may not be. "Wait, where the hell am I?"

"You're in Norfolk, lady."

Norfolk? How in the fuck did I end up in Norfolk?

Well, it would explain the bustling metropolis. Judging by the chi-chi neighborhood I was in, I think Bonnie and Vickie were totally on the money with Virginia being the new frontier for urban sophisticates. But it didn't matter, I had to get the hell home NOW. I was beginning to feel cotton-mouthed and just wanted to lay down with a cup of hot tea and _Drop Dead Diva_ re-runs after sleeping like a hibernating bear.

I was feeling a little infuriated, yet tinged with longing, that I could still taste my tall, dark handsome stranger a little within my mouth.

"Please sir," I implored. "I'm hungover, I'm tired, and I'm trying to piece together how I got here. Don't you have a GPS in this cab? How far are we from Newport News?"

The cabbie replied, "About 25 miles. But that's not where you're going?"

"Newport News is about an hour from Mystic Falls," I explained. I opened my Blackberry's map app and showed it to him on the map.

After BS-ing with the cabbie about what highways to take and which route would be shortest, he agreed to take me back to Mystic Falls for $200, not including tip. Ugh.

I plopped my hungover, battered ass into the cab and laid back in the cruddy leather seat, longing for the limo and George the friendly driver from last night.

The cabbie started the car then commented, "Looks like you had some night!"

"Yep, I sure did." I massaged my sore temples. "Just wake me up when we're back in Mystic Falls, K?"

"You got it."

I was almost perfectly relaxed and almost comfortable enough to catch a cat-nap.

Then the driver went over a huge pothole and every sore, over-sexed part of my body practically yelled out in protest.

It was going to be a really long ride home.

* * *

**Told you it'd be worth the wait. ;)**

**And maybe if you're really good and not held in contempt of court, there might be more lemons to get picked off the tree. **

**But I do have to dole out more lemony delights. Promissory estoppel, and all.**

**Reviews are better than Tyler picking the lemons off your tree...so the more you review, the quicker the next installment gets here!**


	3. Res Ipsa Loquitur

_When two people are under the influence of the most violent, insane, delusive, and transient of passions, they are required to swear that they'll remain in that condition continuously until death do them part. _G.B. Shaw

___Res ipsa loquitur: the thing that speaks for itself._ Smith & Roberson's Business Law Dictionary

* * *

After dumping out a substantial chunk of my wall safe's contents to pay the cab driver, I had a much-needed hot shower and ordered out for some filling comfort food from the Grill, thanking the stars that they delivered now. I made plans to take my Alaia to the tailor and make up some bullshit that a larger friend attempted to try it on and tore it. That woman was such a gossip, she didn't need to know how it _really_ got that way. But my head was feeling too stabby to want to contemplate any other excuses for the time being.

As I washed off the film of booze and sex off me with my favorite oatmeal-mint organic soap, I realized with chagrin that I neither knew my mystery lover's last name, nor any way to actually look him up. Damn, that would've been the one advantage all those jet-setters trying to network last night would've had. This is also where Bonnie would admonish me for not having a Facebook account once again.

I sighed as I pondered that last night was probably one of those crazy once-in-a-lifetime deals some people get where they have the most incredibly sex ever but never see that person again.

I had to admit I was dying to know more about this mysterious lover. Or was it just a one-night stand? Because don't you have to see them at least intermittently, if not often, to constitute that person a lover? While one-night stand is just that...a one-shot deal that never happens again regardless of if the host kicks you out, or the guest ditches before the host wakes. Someone always gets offended either way.

You know you've been a lawyer or accountant for far too long when you feel the need to constantly decode, define, and over-analyze these things constantly.

Though I just wanted to get out before I got kicked out, that was all. I hate dealing with morning-after awkwardness, it was what kept me from jumping in the dating pool after Matt. Now I was dumbfounded at how I went from barely sticking my toe in the shallow side to diving head-first into the deep end.

Tyler may have been obliging in bed, hell probably the most obliging conquest I've ever had, but I wasn't expecting him to buy me breakfast and discuss the economy and _30 Rock_ with me.

Then again, even if he did have my card or vice versa...wouldn't I sit there wondering if he was going to call me? Or if I'd sit there in trepidation for a week, way too nervous to call him, then it's several days later and I finally work up the nerve to call and he doesn't pick up. I don't know if it's because he's busy, or doesn't pick up for unrecognized phone numbers. So the phone goes to voicemail and I just say something moronic like "Hi, this is Caroline, you took me back to your place and fucked the living hell out of me for a few hours the other week. Shall we do it again but with dinner this time?"

That strategy might've worked for Samantha Jones on _Sex and the City_ but I was deathly afraid of looking like, as the Angry Video Game Nerd would put it, "an idiot with a fist full of shit."

As I pondered this while wolfing down my broccoli mac and cheese I delightfully didn't cook, my Blackberry started going off, Bonnie was calling probably wondering if I ever made it home, then I saw I missed a voicemail from Lexi. I could see from the screen that I had 28 messages in my inbox.

I sighed. Fuckmylife. That stupid piece of fruit is going on silent for now. Even masters of the fucking universe need a hangover day to just do nothing. Gimme Lifetime or gimme death.

* * *

Shortly after my "fuckmylife" moment, I texted Bonnie to assure her I made it home alive and that neither Tyler nor anyone else around had harvested my organs or stolen my money or anything like that. The only thing I was upset about was that I missed my awesome, comfortable free ride home and had to cough up $200 plus a $75 tip to get home in a filthy cab. Could've been worse though.

I didn't get to actually talk to her until Sunday afternoon, after I had substantial time to recover from everything. It felt so luxurious to just do nothing but sleep for nine hours and watch really bad Lifetime movies featuring washed-up actors from the 80's.

"See...I told you Vickie's opening night was going to be huge."

"As was the guy I went home with."

Bonnie giggled. "Seriously though, FOUR times? You lucky bitch."

"Four times and the most talented tongue I ever experienced...I'm _still_ having a hard time sitting down."

"But please though, tell me he was just what you needed to get Matt out of your system?"

"I think so," I agreed. "It was the first time in a long time I'd been properly _fucked_."

"Well, glad you got some...I think I got sick."

"You sound a little snively."

"Jeremy's teaching art classes to elementary school kids on Saturday afternoons now. I went with him thinking it'd be fun, but I'm pretty sure one of those little brats gave me the fucking flu!"

"Get some rest. I need my top-notch assistant to keep my shit together when Salvatore comes in tomorrow and I have to pretend to be a lawyer for at least 12 hours starting at ass o'clock."

* * *

Unfortunately, despite some rest, Bonnie got worse. The doctor prescribed her some Zithromax and said she'd be back to work within a few days to a week, but that week would be snot-encrusted and coughing-wracked hell.

Taking over for Bonnie was Candra, Lexi's assistant of the week. She was a total complete space cadet and not the nicest person either. I opened the betting pool at $20 that Candra wouldn't even make it to Friday. She'd be gone by Thursday at the latest. I swear that when and if I make partner in this firm, I'm never hiring the first people I find off a Craig's List ad response. Or do a friend or business acquaintance favor in hiring their kid, friend, cousin, etc. because Candra could barely type 40 WPM to boot.

I nervously awaited my meeting with the Salvatore heir after a long morning of conference calls and writing briefs that would've probably gone faster had Bonnie or someone with half a brain had been here to help me.

Noon rolled around and I anxiously waited for him to turn up, watching the clock, and trying to make my outbox bigger and inbox smaller. Eventually I was so engrossed in engagement letters that I didn't realize there was someone standing over my desk.

"Caroline Forbes?" I looked up to rest my eyes on a handsome, aristocratic-looking man who retained that aura despite his casual clothing.

"Ah, you must be Stefan Salvatore." I dropped my papers and pushed them aside, then stood up to to shake his hand. He had a firm, business-like handshake. They taught us in law school that you can judge quite a bit about a person by their handshake. I could tell he was a confident and fairly happy-go-lucky guy but troubled.

"Yes, I'm here to discuss my divorce from Katherine Pierce."

"Have a seat and let's see what we can do about getting you divorced. I have a feeling Katherine is looking for a battle."

He sat down on the leather business couch by my desk and sighed. "Battle's too kind a word for what she's got planned. She wants to take me for everything I have- the house, my investments, my inheritance, interest in the business. Stuff that wasn't even hers before we married."

"Well Mr. Salvatore-"

"Please, just call me Stefan."

"Stefan, Virginia's not a community-property state like California. Meaning that Katherine doesn't automatically get half your assets upon marriage then divorce. So you can breathe that sigh of relief on that count.

But we need to find out more about the inheritance and if there were any special rules pertaining to if you were married or not when you inherited the money. Any assets that you jointly owned with Katherine like stocks, bonds, real estate, bank accounts, ownership in a business- she might be able to lay claim to those."

Stefan looked distressed. Being the harbinger of bad news is a shitty thing about this job sometimes.

"We did have a joint bank account of that was worth almost $20 million, I think she cleaned it out the second I kicked her out of my house."

"Would that be the Salvatore estate on the other side of town?" It would be a pity if that gold-digging bitch sunk her claws into that house, she'd probably want to have a piece of Founding Family and colonial history torn down and turned into an upscale mall or $50/plate fusion restaurant something.

"No, our townhouse in Alexandria that we live in most of the year. We also have a condo in L.A., a brownstone in New York, our vacation home in Aspen, and a chalet in Geneva. There's also a whole bunch of rental properties and office buildings that have been in the family forever but I think I gave her co-ownership in exchange for some ownership in her father's business."

I furiously jotted down everything on my legal pad, about to scream for a decent assistant or stenographer. Typing would've been faster but I feel that it breaks client engagement with the constantly clacking of keys, and the strong possibility the client thinks you're doing something else like writing email.

It may be a moot point since I had a tape recorder going and Stefan had already signed a release form understanding that the tape would not leave my office should anything incriminate him and that only in rare and certain circumstances is one allowed to violate client-attorney privilege.

"We'll need notarized deeds to all the properties as soon as possible," I remarked as I realized this would be a drop in the ocean compared to all the other assets in the Salvatore empire. "As for the joint back account, I'm afraid you don't have much recourse there. Theft from one is generally not actionable because joint owners are considered equal and you trust that person."

He snorted. "_Could_ trust at one point until I saw her for what she was."

"Unless you can prove most of the deposits were yours, you can't take action. You'll probably never see that money again but at least you might be able to take a theft loss on your tax return if the divorce finalizes this year."

Stefan's brow furrowed. "Knowing the IRS, I probably won't be able to deduct much, if anything."

"There ARE limits- like a $100/event floor, and 10% of your adjusted gross income. Fortunately the IRS doesn't consider inheritances to be income. But the other money you bring in from your investments, rentals, and the shipping business will probably negate any deduction you get. Ask your accountant when the time comes. Unfortunately, you can't take a deduction for anything you have to give up should Katherine decide to settle...and she doesn't have to recognize any as income, either."

He threw his hands up in the air. "Look, I'm willing to settle out of court. More than willing, in fact. I care about this business that's been in my family for hundreds of years. Dad wished that I carry it on and he left full control of the empire to me.

I just want to pursue that full-time. I'm so over this whole glitterati party scene. The novelty wore off shortly after we got married. I really don't care about the spotlight and the famous-for-being-famous bullshit that Katherine and my brother partake in."

"Unfortunately, from what I've heard, Katherine's not a very reasonable person who'll want to settle out of court," I warned. "She wants to turn this into a drawn-out battle and a total media circus. You have to be aware of what you're getting into here," I stated gently. "Once a divorce takes more than seven or eight months, court costs alone really start skyrocketing."

"Look, money's not a problem. Even though that cheap slut is trying to clean me out, I still have my inheritance and the family business. I'll sell one of the buildings if I have to. If I have to give you a five mil retainer to keep her from taking eighty mil from me, I'm willing to take that risk."

Needless to say, I almost crapped my pants. Maybe lawyers who dealt with the incredibly rich and famous were used to these kinds of fees and retainers. I've dealt with the moderately rich and famous, and the biggest retainer I ever had was $100,000. But five MILLION? Even after deducting court costs and other associated expenses, that'd be enough for me to peacefully retire well over 30 years ahead of retirement age.

"Traditionally though, we negotiate a settlement first between Katherine and her attorney. I've handled enough divorces where it looked like they wouldn't settle, but sometimes after a heated battle, things come to a head and neither party wants to take the time and money to fight it out in front of a judge."

He shook his head. "Not Katherine. She's posting all over the Internet about how she's more than willing to go to court. All those stupid gossip websites are starting Team Katherine and Team Stefan campaigns like that retarded movie..."

"Still, we have to try a settlement first. Let's make a list of assets where you have some recourse, the jointly owned assets, and assets she'll try to take, and what you are willing to give up in order for her to never speak to you again."

Stefan looked a little more hopeful and determined this time. "Alright. Let's give that a try. I'll get you in touch with my realty manager and financial adviser."

"One more important thing, Stefan- did you and/or Katherine sign a pre-nup?"

"Oh yes. There's this pre-nuptial agreement that's been in our family for generations." Told you that you could smell the old money off him.

"Bring it next time I see you, we need to go over it before discussing the settlement."

* * *

This had to be the longest week I'd had at work in years, I was getting reminded of my paralegal days with how little free time I suddenly had. It was only exacerbated by having one shitty assistant in the office, two busy partners, and three other lawyers that were so laden with cases they couldn't do much else either. When they weren't busy hating me for getting the Salvatore divorce to begin with.

Administrative help be damned though, I needed my BFF in my office to keep morale up and assure me there was at least one person present in my workplace who wasn't totally hostile. Or in Klaus's case, nice until he thought I could be wavering about this case. He really didn't want me to screw this up.

Unfortunately the bet I hedged about Candra being fired by Thursday was lost, Thursday had arrived and that stupid bitch was still here while Bonnie was practically bedridden and having major body aches and chills. We'd been texting as she bitched about how much pain she was in and I bitched about sleeping two hours a night over the total circus I was about to get swept up in, and I had to pawn off all my other cases to my co-workers who were totally hating me right now so I could focus on getting Stefan Salvatore and Katherine Pierce, a battle of riches and egos, divorced with as little pain and as many legal fees as possible.

Katherine was flying in tonight from whatever party she was crashing to come in to the office with her attorney tomorrow morning. I wondered if there were going to be news people following her around. If there were, they better not take my fucking parking space.

* * *

I stumbled into a fitful sleep the night before, trying not to be nervous but it felt damn near impossible. But finally the big day arrived, the day that Stefan and I would try to negotiate with his soon-to-be-ex-wife who had the mental capacity of a fifth grader.

Then I took that back, because most fifth graders are usually aware that Sam Adams was a former president, not a beer brand.

I donned my best power suit, the BCBG number that had a double-breasted short jacket and high-waisted pencil skirt, with electric blue pinstripes. It was the first suit I bought at full mark-up when I got this job and I always felt luckier when wearing it, especially when coupled with my don't-fuck-with-me executive heels- a pair of no-name but well-fitting black patent high pumps that always make me look and feel like I'm 7 feet tall and can crush anyone in my way. My turquoise and silver necklace I had since my senior year of high shool completed my look. These pieces were milestones of my success and acted as my armor.

I felt like I was re-asserting my master of the fucking universe status as I parked in the closest space to the coveted partner parking spots, taking it as a sign that my meeting with Katherine and her attorney would go well. There didn't seem to be any press around that I was aware of, though chances are the cavalcade would arrive with her later.

The office to say the least, was a complete disaster area.

My desk was a huge mess of unorganized papers and the phone was ringing off the hook. My inbox was stuffed to the brim. There were piles of undelivered packages and subpoenas all over my co-worker Carl's desk, it looked like the mail room had apparently exploded.

Hardly a day fit for the press to take photos and videos in our office, if you ask me.

My inherent nervousness for the upcoming meeting was gnawing at me, and I really needed to calm the fuck down. I barely had time to eat breakfast this morning since I spent so much time on the power outfit that I barely even got to have my minimum coffee quota. Fortunately, there was a steaming mug sitting on the coaster near the computer. My daily vanilla rice milk latte, I hoped.

I took a sip and spit it out. "Holy fuck! What IS this? This tastes like ass!"

Candra looked flustered. "Don't you get a plain soymilk latte every morning?"

"No...vanilla rice-milk," I stated through gritted teeth. I honestly hate yelling at or copping an attitude with my subordinates unless they do something really blasphemous. But I was on the brink of a nervous breakdown at the fuckload of work I had to do all week without a competent assistant that took longer, than it normally would have, and feeling like crap because I felt like everyone in my office was against me in some way. And Candra seemed to be more concerned with texting someone than contending with the clusterfuck of office phones.

"And shouldn't you be answering those phones? These are important clients! Or courts trying to reach us about urgent matters! Sorry if it's interfering with your texting time," I snapped.

She emitted a bitchy sigh and threw her hands up in the air. "Well, I'm sorry for not getting your coffee totally perfect. I don't have eight arms to answer all these goddamn phones, and I'm pulling double duty with no one to help me."

Even though she was a total bitch I felt bad for lashing out anyway, but was too preoccupied with this negotiation and possible media interference to really care. "Then grow six more arms! Or put your phone away!"

She fumed out of the room, presumably to bitch to whoever she was texting earlier but probably pretending to do Lexi's clerical duties. "Oh by the way, there _isn't_ any rice milk in the fridge," she called in a snippy tone as she clacked down the hallway in cheap hooker heels.

Grr. No vanilla rice milk? No point in sending Candra out for it, she'd probably just fuck it up somehow anyway or even get the wrong kind on purpose. Back in New York plenty of grocery stores delivered if you bought at least $10 worth of items...and at the old firm I was the diligent assistant then diligent paralegal.

The inter-office light on my phone went off, it was from Klaus's office. "Caroline, Katherine Pierce is coming in with her attorney at noon. Mr. Salvatore will be here by 11:30. Take those depositions on Carl's desk to the DA's office and be back by 10 sharp to handle any walk-ins."

"Of course- and for crying out loud would you hire us a decent assistant since we don't even have a messenger today?"

Somewhere between the DA's office and the fateful settlement negotiation that would probably be a total moot point, I decided I would stop by a grocery store to get vanilla rice-milk. How the mighty have fallen.

* * *

I didn't mind playing messenger and errand runner for a bit, ironic considering I was in my power outfit. It felt like life was slowly being breathed back into me when I made fresh coffee then vanilla rice-milk lattes just the way I liked them. Thank god for small pleasures.

Fortunately there were no walk-ins but whatever Candra was being paid to do, it didn't involve answering phones so I had to take several calls from current and prospective clients, the state and county courts, other lawyers, and then members of the press were asking about the Salvatore divorce. I declined to comment for each of those calls.

I was so busy that I hadn't realized it was almost time for the high noon of D-Day, well, S-Day really, for settlement negotiation.

Stefan got stuck in traffic so he didn't arrive until almost the same time that Katherine did, Klaus led him to my office where I grabbed a file folder that practically weighed more than the Bible, detailing Stefan's and Katherine's assets plus the pre-nup.

Stefan looked like a total ladykiller in his sharp gray pinsripe Armani suit, I could see why all these girls thought he was catch of the year. Rich, handsome, dedicated to his business and no longer interested in party girls. Pity he wasn't my type, Bonnie would go absolutely batshit trying to set us up, or worse yet my mother would.

"Katherine and her attorney are waiting for you in Conference Room A. Good luck in your negotiation, Mr. Salvatore. I'm sure Ms. Forbes will take good care of you." He looked at me in a threatening manner that said, _She better or she won't make partner._

I could see the nervousness etched all over Stefan's face at the realization he was probably more than likely going to have to go to court unless he handed over everything he owned. We were nowhere near the conference room and I could see him sweating as though he was trying to stave off a panic attack already.

"Look, even if we have to go court, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you get to keep what's rightfully yours and once my assistant comes back and that space cadet flies the coop, we'll do what we can to keep the press out of this. Katherine's the one the media wants, you're just another accessory to her," I assured him. We stopped by the office kitchen so I could get him a cup of tea and I made myself a fresh, hot vanilla rice-milk latte I was surely going to need to get through this negotiation with my brain intact.

Stefan and I walked down the corridor to Conference Room A and I was about to push on the clouded glass door, then I made eye contact with him.

"Ready?"

He nodded.

I pushed the door open, and saw on the left a haughty-looking young woman with long brown hair in expensive clothes, looking angry and impatient.

I started talking as I walked in the room, "I'm Caroline Forbes, Esquire of Schrecter & Rose LLP, I will be representing Mr. Salvatore in this divorce proceeding."

Then who I saw next to Katherine on her right once the door was all the way open made me drop my vanilla rice-milk latte on the floor with a resounding crash that seemed to echo throughout the entire building. I had to suppress the urge not to gasp.

A tall, dark, handsome man stood up to the right of Katherine Pierce.

"I'm Tyler Lockwood, Attorney at Law, of Mason & Brady LLP, representing Ms. Pierce."

If he was shocked to see me, he hid it well.

I don't think I could've possibly looked more like a deer caught in the headlights.

So much for avoiding morning-after awkwardness.

So much for being a master of the fucking universe.

* * *

**Oh how the tide has turned...what will happen to the case now?**

**Caroline stands to lose a $5M retainer, and her chance to make partner, if she reassigns the case...then the senior partner will want to know why she's doing that.**

**Reviews are better than Stefan Salvatore telling you he's getting divorced, keep abreast of the Team Forewood drama by adding me on new chapter alert and reviews make the next chapter arrive faster!**


	4. Is That A Quorum In Your Pants

_Discourage litigation. Persuade your neighbors to compromise whenever you can. Point out to them how the nominal winner is often a real loser in fees, expenses and waste of time._ Abraham Lincoln

_Anybody who thinks talk is cheap should get some legal advice._ Franklin P. Jones

* * *

If Stefan was having a panic attack earlier, I was having a fucking coronary right now. I might have actually been shaking. I could barely feel the scorching coffee that soaked the feet of my pantyhose and was now seeping into my pumps.

"Aw shit, that got all over my brand-new Florsheims!" Stefan exlaimed.

"I'm so sorry," I blurted, my face flaming red. I didn't have the heart to make things worse and call for the utterly incompetent Candra to clean this up, especially after I totally snapped at her. Instead, the veritable lightbulb in my head went on and I decided to see the lack of help around as an advantage.

"Give me a second to get some paper towels, I'll be right back."

I turned on my heel to go back to the office kitchen to get a roll of paper towels from the cabinet, and I braced my hands on the counter and took a few deep breaths.

I couldn't fucking believe this. Of the millions of thoughts careening back and forth in my head, the most dominant one was, "Holy shit, I slept with the opposing counsel."

The best fuck I ever had was right here in my office. When I thought I wouldn't see him again.

His full name was Tyler Lockwood. And he didn't work for Starbucks, he worked for one of the most prestigious law firms in the DC-Alexandria area. This was some way of me finding out.

This was one of the hugest high-profile cases I had taken on for the firm probably since I stopped that actress from publishing the book about Vickie Donovan, Klaus said if I won this one it would more than likely make me partner.

But technically this was a conflict of interest, which by the standards of conduct imposed by the Virginia Bar, would mean I would have to alert Klaus or Lexi to assign Stefan a different lawyer or take it upon myself to find Stefan different representation in-house or with another firm.

Except, oh yeah, I couldn't _explain_ to my bosses, other lawyers, and my client why I would have to do this without seriously putting my ass on the line. I massaged my temples and resisted the urge to scream then travel to Hades via the plastic flatware we kept in the cabinet for office birthday parties.

Why can't I ever just catch one small break? I think I would've been happier and saner knowing that Tyler was just a one-night affair who I never saw again. Pondering the one that got away was seriously far less painful than pondering, "Will I get to keep my job or ever make partner at this rate?"

I took a minute to wipe the coffee out of my shoes, dreading the sticky feeling they would develop later. Then I quickly made a lukewarm vanilla rice-milk latte, and walked back to the conference room with the paper towels. Tyler and Katherine looked amused as I wiped up the spilled coffee and shattered china, at least one of them knew my mental state was akin to the broken mug I swept up in a damp paper towel.

Once the mess was totally cleared up, Stefan and I sat down across from them. This was going to be difficult. Negotiations are full of eye contact and reading facial expressions, and the last time this man read any facial expression of mine, it was when I was in the midst of a screaming orgasm.

Now I couldn't fucking believe he was in my office, on business, of all times and places.

I had this professor in law school who would always go on about conflicts of interest. He always said that if sex, bribes, and/or blackmail were involved, or you felt there was potential for those things to happen, to "never accept the engagement". He would say this almost every time our class met.

I wish he would've taught us what to do when you already _had_ sex with the defendant or in my case, opposing counsel.

"I've compiled a list of the assets that Ms. Pierce jointly owns with Mr. Salvatore," I stated as calmly as possible while I opened the massive folder of deeds and account statements. I looked at our lowball opening offer. "He is willing to give you half of your joint investments and the house in Alexandria if you settle out of court."

Tyler's expression was unreadable as he read through several notes on legal sheets that were clearly instructions for playing hardball and taking Stefan for everything he had. He looked up at me occasionally and I couldn't lie, I felt heat. My face was probably still flaming. I hadn't felt this mortified since I was in middle school and this bitch who I thought was my friend ran around and told the whole school about a boy I liked while everyone made fun of me.

Difference was, I wasn't held up to a standard of professional conduct in seventh grade, nor did I ever have sex with that boy at all let alone under the pretense that I might not see him again.

"I'm not settling for that," Katherine snapped. "At the very least, I want all of the houses, a 25% interest in Salvatore Shipping, and the inheritance." She tapped her fake nails on the glass tabletop. With how heightened my nerves and irritation threshold were right now, to me it sounded like she was running those horrid things down a chalkboard.

I suddenly felt like opening up the windows and yelling "FUCKMYLIFE!" out the window for all of Mystic Falls to hear.

"But the inheritance is not for Stefan to give you," I spoke with a little warning in my voice.

"Not according to the pre-nup," Tyler coolly replied as he produced a large stapled portfolio. "I assume you read it?" He slid a copy across the table. "Read the highlighted portion," he dictated in a manner I found a bit patronizing.

"Bequests and inheritances within the males of Salvatore family are to be treated as community property between husband and wife if the heir is alive and legally married prior to the bequest's release from probate court," I read as I felt my voice slightly dissipate.

Katherine looked back at me smugly. Stefan looked like he was getting his nuts twisted off. Tyler looked like he was hiding something else, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what.

Right now I felt like a real-life female Lionel Hutz.

I hadn't asked Stefan about the status of the inheritance except that I knew most waited for six months in probate court but there were ways around that sometimes.

If that was the case though, we were stonewalled.

"If you agree to divorce me right now and not go to court, I'll give you all the houses. Take them, I don't want them," Stefan spoke up. Katherine was looking a little more interested.

Then Tyler whispered something in her ear. I glared at him, I couldn't help it. Had I ever glared at a defense attorney in a negotiation before? God I was a fucking mess today.

"We can start with the houses and a _50%_ ownership in Salvatore Shipping, and I'm ready to take this out in court," Katherine threatened. "Considering how little fun you let me have, I'm not settling for those houses alone."

Stefan was looking angrier by the minute and I couldn't blame him. His eyes were stormy as he looked to me to do something. I looked my opponents with my best poker face then decided it was time to speak up as I turned to Settlement Offer II.

"I propose the following settlement on behalf of Mr. Salvatore: the house in Alexandria, the condo in L.A., the brownstone in New York, the Swiss chalet, the wealth management accounts including two held jointly and one held by Mr. Salvatore alone, and the contents of any more joint bank accounts providing Ms. Pierce did not empty their contents in the first place."

"How dare you accuse my client of theft!" Tyler's ebon eyes burned into me and his tone almost made me jump. If this is how he was in a conference room, I bet he was terrifying in court...something I didn't want to find out but would probably have to at this rate.

"She did clean out one joint bank account held with Chase that originally held $20 million the day Stefan evicted her from their Alexandria residence," I stated as calmly as possible as I bravely looked Tyler in the eye. He looked even more devastatingly handsome now that I was staring him down sober, even though for the sake of my client and firm I had to pretend that Friday night didn't happen.

"But it was a joint account. Katherine's co-owner so that money's hers under the banking statutes."

I opened my file to the records from Chase, showing pages of highlighted transactions. "Not under the US Code, I don't think so," I refuted. Mimicking the tone he used earlier, I stared him down and said "Would you read the highlighted portion of this affidavit from the Fraud Prevention department of Chase Bank?"

Oh, he didn't like it when someone played his own game back at him. I resisted the urge to smile because he looked pissed off right now.

I slid the affidavit across the table and he roughly grabbed it. "I certify that primary account holder Stefan Salvatore made 98% of the deposits to Savings Account 25980235738. Joint account holder Katherine Pierce deposited $100,000 upon opening the account in 2007 and has not made any deposits since."

"Then you see here," I pointed to a withdrawal slip in the binder, "There's an order to have $20 million withdrawn in cash with Katherine's signature on it. At least $19,900,000 of that money is rightfully Stefan's. So yes, I _am_ accusing your client of theft."

I think I saw Katherine waver, and was that fear I saw in her eyes just now?

Despite this little victory, my heart was still palpitating a million times a minute. I silently prayed that my nerves weren't showing. Every fucking second I spent in this room discussing Stefan's assets that Katherine wanted to grab, I couldn't help but remember when Tyler was grabbing my assets and I had to admit that this powerplay was getting me hot, nerve-wracking as it was.

A quick peek through the glass tabletop...and he clearly was having the same thoughts, judging by that huge tent in his pants.

Oh christ.

He was probably staring past my skirt through the table the entire time I was going through the pre-nup and asset files. Stupid glass! Was being able to tell these things the reason why Klaus chose a glass tabletop for this room?

My face felt so hot right now. I could vaguely feel Tyler undressing me with his eyes again as I tried to carry on with my job. But then Stefan spoke up. "Look, I just want this over. I don't even care about that joint account anymore. I'll give you the houses, the investment accounts, some of the buildings we've had in the family for years, but you're not touching my business. The board of directors is never going to allow that kind of hostile takeover. You're going to have to take me to court if you want that business. You'll have to pry the corporate charter from my cold, dead hands."

Tyler was about to say something but Katherine cut him off. "Fine then, I've been wanting to go to court unless you give me everything right now."

"Our final offer-" I began but Stefan held his hand up.

"You know, I think this business and that inheritance were the only reasons you married me," he spat at Katherine. "Which is why I want this divorce in the first place. If you just wanted half of everything maybe you should've gone off with some poor bastard in California instead of bothering with me in the first place. You're phony, shallow, and just want to maintain your current lifestyle so you won't have to hold down a real job or do anything important after your dad dies."

Eyes stormy with conviction, Stefan stared down both his ex and a man I couldn't tell if I liked or hated right now.

"That's not true! I have a real job! I'm an _icon_! And I do have a clothing line!"

I looked at Stefan incredulously then carefully back at Tyler, who looked just as amused. I could tell he was trying not to laugh as was I, it would be of poor professionalism.

_Like fucking the opposing counsel barely 48 hours before the settlement negotiation is so professional!_ that nagging inner voice shouted at me to remind me that despite being deep in negotiation right now, that I was still scared shitless and my heart wasn't somehwere in my chest. I was at least left alone to my thoughts for a minute or two while Stefan and Katherine continued their shouting match before Tyler broke it.

Also, have I mentioned that lawyers and accountants also often get stuck being de facto marriage counselors? And how much that sucks? Some days I really understand why Milton in _Office Space_ just loses it and sets the building on fire.

(Be sure to really bill the living crap out of bickering couples, FTR.)

This went on for some time until it was apparent that Katherine would only settle out of court if she got a huge part of the family business and the inheritance, and we had to throw in the towel: going to court was going to be our only option.

Retreating to my office, Tyler and I drew up the papers to be taken to divorce court, the nearest one which was in Arlington. I was getting ready to track down Candra or our messenger who appeared to be missing in action, when I looked out the window and saw a huge crowd of people milling around outside, apparently curious onlookers trying to get pictures or autographs of Katherine.

I inwardly groaned. This was not good.

I walked back to my office, divorce papers still in tow. "Ms. Pierce-"

"You'll direct all questions to me, Ms. Forbes," Tyler declared icily.

"I had no questions," I shot back. "I just thought that _your client _should be aware that her...fans and the media are outside."

_And that I and my office are a total fucking mess today. And I cannot believe that the biggest case of the year so far, with all this media attention, I spent several hours doing indescribably filthy things to the defense attorney. FUCKMYLIFE, I'm debating early retirement. Maybe I'll open one of those basket-weaving shops that only does business during tourist season and sporadically online._

I let Katherine pretend-bicker about the people outside, I know she was really getting off the attention, and watched in amusement from a distance as Tyler refused to let Stefan to speak to her while I called a bonded courier service to get the divorce papers filed. This led Tyler to remark, "What kind of law office is this?" and that genuinely pissed me off. I had to at least look important right now.

"CANDRA!" I yelled. "Serve those papers on Carl's desk! And for god's sake make more coffee!"

I really needed Bonnie here more than ever. I briefly wondered if I could get an injunction against a ten-year-old for making my assistant and bestie sick.

We were concluding our business, when Tyler took one of my business cards off my desk then stated, "We'll be in touch, Ms. Forbes." prior to shaking my hand. I could barely look him in the eye. I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

His handshake was warm and spoke of ulterior motives. I kept expecting him to wink at me.

But as Katherine got swept up in the paparazzi milling around my office that made me want to camp out in here instead, he did turn around to give me one more smoldering look. I thought he was going to get on the elevator door since it opened but he didn't, it got called back down again.

Instead, with Katherine downstairs and Stefan in my office and almost no one up here (Candra was assumingly using Lexi's computer to blog about her pointless life while Lexi was in court), Tyler's power-lawyer persona dropped and he suddenly addressed me as Caroline, more softly this time as I was walking back to the office kitchen. He was waiting for the elevator to come back up.

I kept my distance in a manner that said _I find this very suspect_.

"Yes?"

"Isn't this funny...I called about twenty Best Buy stores in the greater Newport News area looking for one that employed any hot blondes named Caroline."

I gritted my teeth. "Tyler, this isn't funny right now." I just wanted to go home. I felt like I might faint. My heart had moved up into my throat and replaced the cavity in my chest with lead.

He looked nonplussed. "Just wanted to know why you pulled that disappearing act."

Suddenly I felt like I got hit in the head with an anvil, like I might teeter on my pumps if my feet weren't totally glued in there by sugary coffee. I wished I had my own attorney representing me right now that could say, "Don't answer that!"

Fortunately for me, some force out there decided I had enough torture for the day and the elevator returned with Klaus and Carl in tow. Tyler nodded at them.

"Good afternoon, sirs. I was just discussing the case with the counsel here," he said before he headed into the elevator himself. The stoney air he had in the conference room returned. "See you in court." It almost sounded like a threat. I immediately stared away from the elevator as it closed then lowered into the bowels of the building.

"Good," Klaus beamed. "You show Mason & Brady LLP what we're made of! I expect you to get a lot of billable hours of this, Caroline." Carl glared at me a little until he went to his desk and started bemoaning a lack of assistants under his breath.

"Yes, sir," I mumbled meekly. "I'm...just going to get myself another coffee. Got to read up on their pre-nup and all."

I waited until Klaus was back in his office and Carl got preoccupied yelling at Candra before I did a runner to the executive bathroom just past the partners' wing. I once saw Lexi punch the code in and I memorized it, saving my trips there for extremely good, or extremely bad, events that merited it. This was such an occasion.

Once I made it inside and locked the door, I lurched forward and puked until I had almost nothing left inside. I had been holding that in since I entered the conference room and saw Tyler there.

The phrase of the day was "I couldn't fucking believe this." I said it in my head over and over again as the paltry contents of my breakfast came back up.

Of all the law firms Katherine could've used...all the attorneys out there...or if she had to stick with Mason & Brady LLP, don't they have two senior and three junior partners and about ten other lawyers working for them...

I wasn't feeling much like a master of the fucking universe right now.

Fuck. What did I get myself into? Better yet how would I get out of this?

* * *

This long, tortuous day couldn't end soon enough. I had some time to get a good defense ready for Stefan, and would find out in two days which judge we were getting. But my mind, and to a lesser extent my body, felt too fragile to come up with a good defense against Katherine and her gorgeous smack-talking attorney right now.

I told Klaus that I wasn't feeling well and promised to do some work from home, which in actuality sounded like a good idea once I said it out loud.

Thankfully Team Katherine had evacuated the parking lot by now. I guess I must've been in the bathroom longer than I thought. I got in my car and called Bonnie.

"Hello?" It sounded like I woke her up, she still sounded pretty miserable.

"Bon? I have to see you right now."

"Caroline...I'm feeling a bit better, but come on, I'm still basically supposed to be quarantined. Jeremy won't go within ten feet of me. I'm highly contagious and you can't afford to get sick right now!"

"I'll take some Cipro before I go to your house then. What if I told you there was cough syrup, pizza, and chick flicks in it?"

"You win."

I removed my don't-fuck-with-me heels that weren't feeling very don't-fuck-with-me, I was relieved to remove those sticky painful things from my feet. Upon closer inspection, I realized I also got puke on the left toe.

Jesus, that never even happened when I was drunk.

I put on my comfortable although filthy driving sneakers and drove home to change clothes and raid my DVD collection before making stops at a drug store and Bonnie's favorite pizza joint.

She was laying on the couch, still looking a little peaked, but brightened at the goodies I had in tow.

"Mushroom pizza, Robitussin DM, and both _Sex and the City_ movies. It's a carbo-loading tripping balls chick flick fest?" Bonnie questioned.

"Yes it is," I declared. "Now I need a fucking drink."

"Tell me all about it," she replied as she helped herself to the cough syrup and some pizza. "Booze is above the fridge."

After pouring myself a tall glass that was more Bacardi than Coke, I sighed and tried to look as level-headed as possible. I wasn't sure where to begin.

"So the office was a total fucking mess today. Candra has the same brainpower as Ralph Wiggum except he had some actual entertainment value. We need you back so bad!"

"I'm feeling a little better, I might be able to come back to work tomorrow after I get a lot of sleep tonight."

That news made me feel a little better too. "But that's not all..."

"Oh yeah, how did the big settlement negotiation go? I heard the media was outside your office! Did you talk to any reporters?"

"We're going to court."

She looked a little crestfallen that I didn't share her enthusiasm. "Figured."

"But that's not all." I felt my knees start to buckle at the mere memory of walking into Conference Room A.

"Oh?" Bonnie could sense my distress as I sat down on the opposite end of her ratty but comfortable couch. "What happened? I can tell something's wrong."

"You're never going to believe who the opposing counsel is." I took a huge swig of my rum and coke that was maybe three drops of Coke.

"Who?" She was getting interested now. "Is is that same lawyer you said you never wanted to deal with again after that wrongful death case you lost against that huge pharma corp?"

"No...worse."

"Did you ever deal with this lawyer before?"

"Yes and no."

She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I've never dealt with this guy in the courtroom..." I had to spit it out now. "That hot guy I went home with at Vickie's club?Best sex of my life, who I thought I'd never see again? He's Katherine's lawyer."

Bonnie almost dropped her pizza. "Get the fuck out of here."

"Yeah, of all the guys whose business card I didn't get last Friday..."

"That...is just plain out of this fucking world. He's a lawyer? HER lawyer? Wow, the world works in mysterious ways." She shook her head.

"I can't ask Klaus to reassign the case or Stefan to find other representation. They'll want to know why."

"That's a tough call...what do you think you're going to do?"

"Just carry on with the case like nothing happened. What the hell else can I do?" I paused. "Hell, after we drew up the divorce court documents, it was him, NOT me, who asked why I pulled a 'disappearing act'. His words, exactly!"

Bonnie was just incredulous. "You know that guys most of the time only pretend they don't want you around after sex. Women are sold a lot of myths...that's one of them. They actually _like it _when you want to stick around. And I bet he would've offered to pay for your cab ride!"

"Come on, I woke up almost 90 miles from home! And I have too much pride to ask a man for something like that or to just expect it." I paused. "I can pay for my own cab rides but damn, he tore that new dress almost clean off me. I think the driver would've charged me closer to $250 if it hadn't been for that nip-slip he probably got when I fell asleep in the back seat."

It felt good to laugh with my bestie again. With how hellish this week had been, it felt like it had been months instead of just days that we had been just laughing and making fun of things together. Amazing how we take some things and people for granted sometimes.

"But Caroline, this is serious though. So you can't back out of the case. But do you think anyone might've found out about that night? Team Stefan and Team Katherine be damned, if the press gets wind of this...well, maybe it'd better to back out while you could..."

Yes, I thought of that. I could get fired. Maybe even disbarred since this was technically a conflict of interest.

But I have my pride and dignity, goddammit.

With my BFF back at work tomorrow, and spending enough time on the Virginia Matrimonial Code plus the pre-nup agreement I bet Katherine and Stefan probably never read, I could probably come up with a good defense before the proceedings began.

And I would just have to learn how to ignore that criminally sensual dress-ripper representing that talentless tart.

_Ignore, or play hard to get._

* * *

**Tyler and Caroline are about to have their face-off in court.**

**Will she keep her cool this time and not be dropping coffee on everyone's shoes? Or...is Tyler going to be the one who totally loses it since he still doesn't have explanation for why she denied him a morning-after?**

**What will they both find out about their respective clients that will shock the both of them?**

**Reviews are better than pizza and rum and coke with your BFF...so don't forget to review, and keep on Story Alert for the next installment!**


	5. Debriefing

_Every neurosis is a primitive form of legal proceeding in which the accused carries on the prosecution, imposes judgment and executes the sentence: all to the end that someone else should not perform the same process. _Lionel Trilling

_It is the trade of lawyers to question everything, yield nothing, and to talk by the hour._ Thomas Jefferson

* * *

The office underwent a drastic transformation when Bonnie returned, everyone was so glad to have her back that I managed to convince Lexi to give her a huge bonus in lieu of extra sick pay.

Now that I was also over the initial shock of who Katherine's representation happened to be, I was able to concentrate more on my top priority in this case: preparing a good defense for Stefan.

Tomorrow we'd find out which judge would handle the case and when the court date would be set.

Sometimes the judge you get, especially in small towns like this with dynasties going back to the Founders, can seriously make or break a case. Their biases might work for or against you. I could only hope that the judge being assigned wasn't some guy I hooked up with college at the rate I was going.

My girls' night in with Bonnie was the shot in the arm I needed, and now that we back in the office guns blazing, I felt like I could safely reassert my master of the fucking universe status again despite totally falling apart at the seams yesterday. I'm a rainmaker dammit, and like hell if I was going to back out of this now!

I was just going to have to pretend this conflict of interest didn't exist, carry on with the case, and help Stefan Salvatore keep his business, and hopefully other assets, safe from that greedy socialite. I decided not to think of my new attitude towards the case as an anti-Tyler thing: but a pro-Founding Family and make-partner-or-die-trying agenda.

I was at my computer scanning a legal database for any local divorce statutes that could help with the case, when Bonnie came in to my office bearing vanilla rice-milk latte goodness and a huge smile.

"Glad to see you kicked that flu's ass," I beamed as I took my frothy drink.

"Oh, more than that...I think you need to see what's on Perez Hilton. This is such a scream."

I tabbed my window and opened up the website, and gasped at what I saw.

"Get the fuck out of here."

"Yes."

"Is...she fucking retarded?"

"I know, right?"

"I don't know if it's just a publicity stunt or what, but no jury is going to sympathize with her after they see this!"

Splayed across the page was a picture of Katherine in designer clothing and movie star sunglasses, in a posh resort near Alexandria.

With Damon Salvatore in tow.

They were looking more than a little friendly. It was hard to tell if it was just the shadow, or Photoshop, but it looked like his hand was on her ass.

Bonnie raised one eyebrow. "If you ask me, she's after more than one inheritance...and if she can't get Stefan to give her the business from a divorce she didn't plan, maybe she can coerce it from Damon with sex."

"Please, Damon gets more ass than a merry-go-round pony. Even though he has no part in running Salvatore Shipping, he's still a major owner and thus de-facto business partner, it's still easy money to him, and I highly doubt he's going to give it up just because his brother's rich ex is blowing him."

I had a thougtful pause. "I also don't think Katherine's nearly smart enough to pull a move like that. She thought that 'Free Tibet' was a hippie clothing label."

"Well, did you find anything in the pre-nup?"

"Not the entire thing yet. If it looks like the end of the Salvatore line lies with Damon and Stefan and maybe a few lesser-known cousins, that means that dreaded outdated thing will probably reach the end of its life. The crazy thing is, that pre-nup isn't meant so much to protect the greedy wife from taking their assets...as it actually is to keep her set should death or boredom do you part! I saw all this stuff about vesting schedules, money paid out if she produced any male heirs, and the wife's rights to inheritances, estates, and the like. You know, so she'd be set once he dumped her ass, died, or went bankrupt- since women weren't really allowed to be masters of the fucking universe back then."

"Wow. How pre-suffrage."

"Tell me about it. What's insane is that how come it wasn't negotiated on either side? Or why didn't Stefan just put together his very own pre-nup? He could've easily afforded a lawyer to do a whole new one from scratch that protected his business if nothing else."

Bonnie looked thoughtful for a minute. "You know how the Founding Families are. Deep-seated in tradition. I'm sure that's also probably how his father would've wanted it too." She paused. "And chances are he was in a sex and media haze when he married Katherine, so getting a good pre-nup was probably his last priority so he just used the family one dating back to the 1700s out of laziness."

I sighed. "It's so fucking good to have you back. It felt like you were gone for a MONTH. What the hell would I do without you?"

She smiled. "You probably would have set the building on fire by now."

"Indeed."

Bonnie went back to work, and I resumed my database research, but was yielding nothing I didn't already know. Taking a cue from her, I did a quick Google search and found that the divorce was getting significant coverage outside of Virginia now. I felt a little sickened in a sense because most of the divorces I handled, in addition to most couples wanting to settle out of court and not bother with the time and money involved fighting it out in front of a judge, they also usually wanted to keep these things private.

How the rich and famous happen to be human beings but also totally different animals: Katherine's whole life seemed to be a circus where she was always the star.

So I decided to examine the pre-nup instead, and I worked well after the time I normally would've taken a lunch break. Klaus's prediction about many billable hours was sure turning out to be correct.

In between the many antiquated codicils regarding male heirs and how inheritances had different character from the other sources of income to the Salvatore family, one covenant caught my eye. I almost felt my heart stop when I read it, then I looked up the gossip websites again for the pictures of Katherine with Damon and did a few print-outs.

I almost fiendishly giggled that something being printed from Perez Hilton was actually work-related.

I called Stefan's cell but he was busy with the board of directors and business legal defense team dealing with the matter of safeguarding Salvatore Shipping, so I left him an urgent voicemail requesting to meet me tomorrow afternoon.

* * *

I had a fresh tape going in my desk. Brain powered by good vanilla rice-milk lattes, I was ready to jot out almost 70 WPM on my legal pad.

"So let me get this straight," Stefan asked. "There's a covenant in the pre-nup that says if my wife cheats on me, the agreement becomes void and she doesn't get anything?"

"Basically, yes. If we have proof, we can get the agreement voided by a court order so it's actually a good thing we're taking this to court." I showed him the print-outs. "This may be not be sufficient enough, but I'm willing to bet there will be more of these."

Stefan paged through the print-outs in silent anger. "But these are pretty tame. Can we be _entirely_ sure she's cheating on me...with my brother?"

"The apple usually doesn't fall far from the tree. Judging by those outfits, I don't think they were on the beach to discuss the shipping empire." I paused. "Stefan, were you of cognizant mind when you signed that pre-nup?"

"I think I was. Why?"

"With all of your business know-how and the things I imagine your father must've taught you about running it...didn't he teach you to read a contract before you sign it?"

"I'm not going to lie, I was in a totally different place in my life then. Believe it or not, I was actually a way worse party animal than Damon."

I was incredulous. "Really?"

"Yes. Booze, cocaine, random society girls...the works. Marrying Katherine seemed like a good idea at the time."

"So maybe you were under some kind of duress or influence when you signed the pre-nup."

"No, I take fault for that. I just wasn't thinking. I was 23 and stupid, and Katherine seemed like the perfect woman because she had no regard for money, schedules, responsibility...life just seemed like one big party and pleasure trip to her. I did love her and had a lot of fun with her at first."

"Then you reached your irreconcilable differences down the road?"

"Not quite. My father would go on about how we had to have a baby, have an heir for the business and continue the Salvatore name, but Katherine wouldn't hear anything of it. She felt motherhood wasn't in vogue. I'd like to be a father some day but I wouldn't force my kid to go into the shipping business if they didn't want to."

This was an interesting development though unsurprising.

"We were just two party animals back then, though she still is. We were so not thinking about businesses, babies, well, _anything_. Then one night I almost OD'd at a club in L.A., they declared me legally dead."

Just the sound of that made my blood chill.

"My father pulled out a lot of money and friends in high places to keep it out of the press, told the media I was taking a holiday in Greece, but he really forced me into rehab. It was the kick in the ass I needed, it showed me I was powerless over my addictions and I had to stop what I was doing if I wanted to live to see 30."

"And you realized Katherine was one of your 'x-factors' that made you behave this way?"

He nodded. "Yeah, kind of. So I set about making things right: I tried to get Katherine to get her shit together and take life a bit more seriously. I made amends with my father and decided I wanted to carry on the family business and use my money to help others start businesses. Dad told me all about the value of being an 'angel investor'.

It was crazy that shortly after that ordeal was over and I felt things were finally going forward with my life and I was having some direction, he laid out the inheritance allotments for me and Damon, then he just suddenly died."

I sympathetically touched his hand. "I'm sorry for your loss but these things do happen."

"He was a pretty healthy guy too. Not one of those stereotypical rich businessmen who live off steaks and cigars every day, he took good care of himself. Took good care of his employees, the company and the household staff. The grounds didn't go to waste and he belonged to a racquet club and everything. His death came as a complete shock to us."

"Healthy or not though, we're all still mortal."

"Still, after he died, I really threw myself into the family business just to stay busy when I wasn't practically babysitting my brother and my wife to boot. Then I picked up on other projects of his that he never got to complete- in fact, that's how I became one of the chief equity backers for a new development in Newport News. You know that former model Vickie Donovan? I'm the reason she opened a new club so close to home."

Remembering my ties to Vickie, this prompted me to pull out the massive binder detailing the Salvatore-Pierce assets. Sure enough, there were copies of §1244 certificates with Stefan's name on them for "Donovan Enterprises" that I recalled seeing earlier. Since Donovan is a common last name and the company had such a non-descript name, I didn't think those certificates had anything to do with her.

Worse yet, under federal law, §1244 stock...married taxpayers are treated as one owner. Sometimes the ownership is split upon divorces or given up outright in settlements. Stefan owned 60 out of 100 allowed shares, making him majority shareholder of her company.

Oh no. How could I assure that those certificates would be safe in Katherine's hands?

This was definitely a conflict of interest now. I could always tell Klaus to reassign the case because I would act in Stefan's interest so my friend could keep the ownership of her business the same. Maybe this was my last ticket out of this case.

_But if I helped Vickie get her life back on track before, I could surely do it again._

I decided not to tell Stefan that she was my friend.

"Yes...beautiful club, I was just there on opening night. I represented Ms. Donovan in her defamation case last year." That was the truth, I just didn't mention anything else. About our friendship, or about who I happened to meet at the club's opening night.

"I heard the premiere was great, wish I could've gone. But I was busy trying to keep Katherine from totally destroying my property, and getting damage control together for the press."

"Stefan, if I can be perfectly honest with you, I think this pre-nup might be your ticket to not having to give up your assets. But Katherine's going to stop at nothing to keep this court battle going for as long as possible.

Tomorrow we're going to find out who the judge is, and when we first have to appear in court. I'm going to center most of the defense around this pre-nup, then secondary to that the fact that Virginia is not a community-property state plus any other statutes that'll support our stance that she needs to keep her hands off of anything that wasn't hers before you were married."

"On that note, I should get going so you can work on that and I'm going to get in touch with my financial adviser."

We shook hands on it, both of us feeling far more optimistic about the proceedings now. I turned my phone on silent and got to preparing the defense.

* * *

The productive day came to a close long after the sun went down, and I was the last person to leave the office and lock up. While I couldn't be positive the defense would sway the court in our favor 100%, it provided a good enough basis and no jury would think that Katherine and Damon were just having a friendly discussion at that resort.

But I now had not one, but two, conflicts of interest at hand. And I couldn't tell which one was more dire...and I was keeping my mouth shut about both of them.

I got in my car and began the drive home, all the while this nagging voice in the back of my head going on about the conflicts of interest and if I wanted to play the business ownership card to give up representing Stefan, now would be the right time to tell him and Klaus.

But at the same time I already made the commitment. And I didn't want Tyler to think that I was just backing down from this case because I didn't want to face him, even though that was initially part of why I wanted to back out.

Indeed, I was never going to catch just one small break.

I turned down my street and slowed down, getting ready to pull into my driveway but almost stopped when my headlights picked something up.

Then I had a "You've got to be fucking kidding me." moment.

Tyler was at my doorstep.

I let out a frustrated sigh and parked. Slightly shellshocked, I got out of the car and proceeded with caution.

"What are you doing here? How did you find out where I live?"

"Phonebook. Not a lot of people named Forbes live in this town."

"But that doesn't answer my first question." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Okay then." He looked thoughtful for a second. "I figured here and now would be a better time to ask you than your office."

I decided to be bold and just do this. "If you're asking if I'm going to back out on the case, the answer is no."

"I didn't think you were going to. I also didn't think you were just going to leave after a pretty incredible night either."

Oh, I should've seen that one coming.

"Tyler..." I began.

"I was wondering if it was something I did...something I said?"

"No."

"And I didn't know if you made it home safe or not."

I shrugged. "Clearly, I did. I can take care of myself."

"I at least would've made sure you got a ride home."

"Well, I'm not one of those girls who just expects the guy to pick up the tab for everything. I have some freakin pride, you know."

"That's what this is about? Pride?" He shook his head. "Man, if only you could've seen your face when you walked into that conference room."

"How the fuck did you think I was going to react?" I fumed. "That I was going to be all cool and composed and say something like 'Hi, I'm your opposing counsel, we're going to be in a media circus divorce case for god knows how long! By the way I had a hard time sitting for two days!'"

Shit. I got reminded of that scene from _American Pie 2_ when Jim's dad is with him in the hospital after the lube/Superglue fiasco and he goes on about how people don't think before they open their mouths, in an ironic statement.

Damned if that sexy insidious bastard was looking right at me like he did at the negotiation just now.

"Really...you couldn't sit for two days?"

"It was a bit painful, yes," I muttered sheepishly.

Tyler sighed and jangled what I assumed were his car keys. "So you ditched because you're a proud woman who got too sore...I get it now."

This man was seriously infuriating me. Yet turning me on at the same time.

Was he a hell whole lot more charming when I was really drunk?

"You have this thing against being helped, or asking for help."

"What?" He's trying to play Freud now? Or was he just being bitchy because this seemed to be the first time a woman ever ditched him after having sex with him?

"You just refuse to let anyone help you, or give a shit."

"Tyler, that's ridiculous. And you hardly know me."

"But I was in you for a couple hours, doesn't that count for something?"

Well, he kinda got me there.

* * *

It had only been a matter of time that I unlocked the door and we charged backward at my sofa, blindly knocking things over. The soft glow from the moon and the streetlights lit up my living room as we furiously tore at each other's clothes.

I had to not smirk to myself as I recalled adventures like this when Mom was out patrolling and there was that whole scary thrill of getting caught though she wasn't really one for doling out punishment. Since our relationship improved and she stopped being such a hardass in her autumn years, she was now more likely to ask me why the hell I wasn't moving to Hempstead with this guy to start a family.

But it was my house now and therefore totally game to have rip-roar sex anywhere I damn well pleased.

It was a far different experience this time around.

But that intensity and spontaneity was there no less.

Something about the way Tyler kissed seemed incredibly needing, not just wanting. Common sense and conflict of interest be damned, that man really fucking knew how to use his hands.

I sighed when he slowed down and kissed my neck, running his hand up my thigh as I felt the wetness pool within me. He groaned as I stroked him through his pants and kissed my collarbone as he helped me out of my blouse. Fuck, he was so hard.

Impatiently, he unzipped my skirt and almost tore it off me and placed his hand over the one I stroked with.

"What exactly do you plan to do with that?" he asked, his voice low with desire.

"What do you _think_ I plan on doing with it?" I lasciviously replied, making sure to squeeze harder. Taking charge, I kissed him hard before he could answer, and started undoing his pants. As I removed the rest of my clothes and got to the floor, he released that huge, glorious cock of his. I stared at it in amazement before I leaned over to take it in my mouth.

Figured that turnabout was fair play for the other night, and I actually felt an _urge_ to suck it.

Moving my lips down his massive shaft, he knotted his fingers in my hair as I took as much of him in as I could. He pulled my hair slightly when I sucked harder and applied more pressure, then stroked his balls at the same time. At this point I can swear he almost ripped some of my hair out but damned if I didn't enjoy it slightly.

I ran several long licks down after I came up for air, then stroked as hard as I could as I licked his balls, getting close to the "male clit", and he seemed to totally fucking lose it.

Men in power are really quite easy to control with the right tongue and jaw placement. Seriously.

Refusing to swallow, I let him finish off while I plotted my next move.

"That was fucking incredible," Tyler sighed. "But I guess you got too much pride to swallow."

"I think it's vulgar," I sniffed.

He laughed incredulously. "And licking my balls isn't?"

"I don't think you were complaining a few minutes ago."

"No. I wasn't," he replied meekly, obviously still numb from pleasure. Time to reassert my status as master of the fucking universe.

"Well, you're in my house now, bitch."

With that, I got on top of him and rubbed my body against his until he was completely hard again. Mounting that delightful hardness and savoring that painfully pleasurable entry I had more control over this time, I bucked my hips against him as he squeezed my ass, pulling himself as deeply into me as possible.

Digging my nails into the couch beneath his shoulders, I demanded that he fuck me harder and faster. Each inch stabbing into me as I dominated him throbbed, he grunted in pleasure as I tightened against him. Thrusting back twice as hard, I let out a guttural scream when he thrust so deep inside that I could feel our motions reverberating throughout the rest of my body.

That massive swell of pain and pleasure alike took me over and I could feel him harden and release inside me. I moved back and felt his lips on my neck as he ran his hands down my body, squeezing my nipples then stroking my engorged clit. Satisfied that I had finished off at last, we laid there on my couch in a sticky embrace. Even though it was totally dark, I could tell I was glowing from multiple orgasms.

"That's the first time a woman ever threw me down like that."

"See, Mr. Big-Shot Lawyer just had to be put in his place."

"Oh, put in my place?" He outright spanked me and I giggled. "I'll fuck you just as hard in court as we did just now. Maybe even harder."

"Correction," I saccharinely intoned. "It was me who said 'You're in my house now, bitch' and got on top and fucked _you_. Let's face it, I'm representing the more level-headed side in this case."

"But if we get a man-hating judge, she just might let Katherine squeeze that poor bastard for everything he has."

On that note, I reached for something else to squeeze. "Did you know she's been seen with Stefan's brother? Read that pre-nup. If she cheats, that baby's void."

"Baby, don't talk about work if you're going to keep doing that to me."

"I'm making you my bitch," I commanded sharply. "I can talk about whatever I feel like while giving you a handjob."

I could see his smirk in the glow of the streetlights. "No one's ever called me 'bitch' before either." His skilled hand moved to that sweet spot where I needed it...oh goddamn.

"Then I guess you must've spent a lot of time with boring insipid twats who have no sense of adventure."

"Adventure huh...who the fuck would've thought it would've come to this? That this is how we'd meet again?"

He did have a good point there.

"Seriously, I would've rather that you stayed the night so I could've backed out of the case had I known what would happen. Then I could've made you that kickass espresso I promised, slung you over my shoulder, and fucked you senseless."

Well, when he put it THAT way...

* * *

**Who's going to be the judge? What stupid hijinx is Katherine going to pull next?**

**Will Tyler and Caroline see each other this way again...how are they going to keep it all business now?**

**Reviews are better than fucking the living hell out of Tyler Lockwood on your living room couch, so be sure to review and don't forget to put Law & Ardor on Story Alert for when the next installment comes!**


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